


Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay)

by gayerfurtherfaster (gayerfurtherfaster420), PrettyLittlePoutyMouth



Series: touch me and gimme that rush [4]
Category: Sam & Cat (TV), Victorious (TV), iCarly
Genre: ADHD, Anxiety Disorder, Better Living Through Chemistry, Cannabis Experimentation, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Kink Exploration, Sam loves Cat and would do anything for her and we mean anything, ethical non-monogamy, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 170,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25869424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayerfurtherfaster420/pseuds/gayerfurtherfaster, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth/pseuds/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth
Summary: Sometimes, one person being arrested for attacking a young hair model is exactly the thing two people need to figure out that they've been in love for, like, a whole year already.
Relationships: Sam Puckett/Carly Shay, Sam Puckett/Cat Valentine, Tori Vega/Jade West
Series: touch me and gimme that rush [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717927
Comments: 64
Kudos: 125





	1. The First 72: 'Cause I need you, And I miss you, And now I wonder

**Author's Note:**

> Note: As we’re wrapping up what’s been dubbed the “Kinky Virgin Verse” AKA the first three parts of this series, we’ve spent considerable time developing Sam and Cat alongside Tori and Jade to the point where it really felt like we wanted to give them the space of their own story. So, this is very much a companion piece to the rest of the series. It doesn’t have to be read in any kind of order along with the other parts, but whichever way you read it, there are bound to be story spoilers going one way or the other. 
> 
> While Tori and Jade’s story is very much about relationships, boundaries, and sexual connection, Sam and Cat’s story is about life balance (including sexual connection, eventually) and the realities of managing mental health. In writing this piece, we’re always doing the research to be as realistic as possible within the world we’ve been given. There’s something unique about trying to sort out why certain characters are the way they are, especially when their quirks are obviously designed for simple comic relief. But we’ve done our best to plot something that makes sense (at least to us) and we hope you enjoy this leg of the journey.
> 
> BONUS CONTENT: For an interactive map of locations in this series, check out https://tinyurl.com/gimmethatrushmap

**2013**

Halfway through clearing her plate, Sam's brain caught up with her stomach. Or, it overrode her stomach. Which. _What?_

Dice had called and told her Cat had been arrested. For attacking some kid. And if Nona didn't bail her out, she'd be in jail for two weeks. Her first thought (the one trying to justify keeping Nona around because of _all.the.food_.) was that she'd heard Cat tell the story of Yerba, the time she and her friends had been thrown in a foreign prison and Cat formed a gang. Or joined a gang. But, according to the story, she seemed to fit right in and make friends easily.

Of course she did. She was Cat. Adorable but determined. Sweet but scrappy.

But then, sometimes, Cat told stories that didn't really make sense, that Sam knew couldn't be true, at least not in their entirety. And while she knew Cat would never lie to her, she also was aware of the way Cat's mind sometimes re-framed things.

Which meant that maybe Cat, at barely five-foot nothing, the girl with red velvet hair who wore cardigans with pearl buttons and slept with two dozen stuffed animals, might not be a good fit for a random Arizona jail. Dammit.

Sam dropped her fork on the table. "Nona. You have to go and bail Cat out of jail."

" _What_?" asked the older woman, eyes wide in surprise, gasping with disbelief as Sam offered the few details she'd been given over the phone. "Oh my goodness." She took Dice's number from Sam and began to make arrangements.

Sam sat back against the seat of the dining nook, her stomach heavy in a way that felt generally unfamiliar to her. Like she might be sick. Especially because she couldn't do anything. Literally, she couldn't go with Nona, not with a warrant out for her arrest in Arizona for disturbing the peace (and maybe assault if that one douchebag ever actually pressed charges). She wandered away from the table and into the back of the apartment, hearing the bits and pieces of Nona's conversation as she passed through the living room. When she reached the bedroom, she fell, face first, onto Cat's bed, an avalanche of stuffed animals piling on top of her from the jostling motion of her body hitting the mattress.

This sucked.

And why had she wasted an hour acting like nothing was wrong? Because she loved food so much?

Food was great, but it didn't make her laugh with wacky toothbrush dances. It didn't invent holidays "just because." It didn't giggle and squeal when it rode behind her on her motorcycle (hell, it didn't even hold on with delicate hands that slid under her motorcycle jacket to rest on her waist). It didn't love old sitcoms with corny jokes or ask her to draw a series of woodland creatures from a dream it had one time.

The truth was Sam _liked_ Cat. More than food. Or as much as food. It wasn't like she had to choose. She could have them both. But, right now, food wasn't locked away in Arizona, potentially looking at an assault charge that could keep it there for much longer than two weeks.

A stuffed pink octopus, bigger than her head, was staring her in the face.

"What are you looking at?" she demanded, backhanding it a little before picking it up and fiddling with two of its eight arms. It was soft and smiley and sweet. Just like Cat. "Yeah," she said, giving Octopus Charlie a squeeze. "I miss her, too."

-

The bed wasn't very comfortable, but it didn't matter. Cat was so sleepy. Whenever she opened her eyes, she'd take a look around the room (boring, like a sad hotel) and wonder where she was. Earlier, they'd taken her to jail, but not like the kind on TV with bars and someone playing the harmonica, but a big plain room with four other women inside. Cat had tried to strike up a conversation, but no one really seemed interested in talking. It didn't matter, though, because it wasn't long before someone (a tall police woman) came back to take her out of the holding area and put her in another police car where they took her to the hospital.

She wasn't sick. She felt fine. They'd given her a basic check-up (but no candy reward for being patient like at her old doctor's office) and asked her a series of questions about what had happened at the modeling shoot. Mostly, the doctor who sat with her just made notes as she spoke, but when she began to ask about getting back to Dice and needing to make her flight back to LA, no one seemed interested in giving her an answer. At least not one that made her feel like she wasn't trapped in the small observation room.

When she still lived at home with her parents and Giovanni (her brother) she'd heard about plenty of instances, especially first hand (from Gio) stories about the process of being evaluated. She had a sinking feeling that was happening now, but as she tried to explain herself, to again tell the story of the boy with the wig and how her friend Dice certainly had the best hair out of everyone in that photoshoot, even her own words sounded frantic and sometimes like nonsense to her own ears. If only they'd stop talking over her, she could calm down and clear this up.

But it became apparent that there wasn't going to be an opportunity for that, not in this hot, stuffy room with the doctor and the tall police woman.

When they offered her a valium in a tiny paper cup, she took it, knowing this meant they didn't believe her and leaving her to wonder if this hospital was where she'd be spending the night.

Which was how she ended up where she was now, not even sure if it was the same day, if it was morning or midnight. There was no window, just the overhead fluorescent light making the plain pale furniture (a chair, a desk, the bed she was lying on) look like bleached bones. 

She wondered what Jade was up to, because Jade liked weird things like bones.

Mostly, though, she missed Sam. If Sam was here, right now, she'd tell that doctor to let her friend out of this creepy room or else he'd have to answer to her butter sock and then they'd ride off on Sam's motorcycle.

Cat was getting sleepy, again.

Maybe when she woke up, she'd be back home, in bed, cuddling her giraffe and reprimanding Sam for eating chips in bed, because she'd be able to hear the crunching all the way across the room. Maybe when she woke up, Arizona would just be a bad dream, like the one where she'd befriended an alligator only to have him steal her idea for a candy categorizing app. Maybe when she woke up, Sam would be right there saying, "Hey, kid, I think you had a bad dream. Do you think these leftover chicken pucks are still any good?"

-

There was someone pounding on the bedroom door. Wait. Sam cracked her eyes open. She was on the couch. There was someone pounding on the front door.

"Whaaaaat?" she groaned, reluctantly rolling to her feet, just to get the noise to stop. A pizza crust fell to the floor, reminding her of the late order she'd placed the night before, the pizza that didn't taste like anything because she was so worried about Cat. All she knew, so far, was that she'd been admitted to the hospital for a psychiatric evaluation, based on what Nona had told her late last night, after she'd landed in Phoenix.

She unlocked the door and twisted the knob, Dice blew right past her before the door was even fully open. "I've been trying to call you," he sputtered.

"I guess I was asleep," Sam replied. She picked up her phone and, yep, look at that, seven missed calls and at least as many texts from this kid who was now standing in front of her. "Kind of had a long night so..."

"Yeah," Dice sighed, collapsing into one of the armchairs. "I caught a flight last night and got in around two this morning. I barely slept."

Sam fell back onto the couch and rested her elbows on her knees, waiting for Dice to fill her in. After all, he'd just been banging on the door. "Well?"

"Sorry, it's just a lot to think about," he said. "Basically, Cat's been admitted to the psychiatric ward at Phoenix General, they don't know how long they're keeping her yet--"

"I know that much. But what happened to get her there? What's this weird chiz about the kid with the hair?" 

"Jett Zander," Dice groaned. "Cat was convinced he was wearing a wig and when it seemed like he might beat me out for the cover of the magazine, she wanted to prove it." He shuddered, "She attacked him and started ripping his hair out. Like...handfuls." Again, he cringed.

That part didn't...sound like Cat. She wasn't violent. She made Sam catch bugs she found in the house and release them into the bushes on the back patio. "But why would she even do that?"

"I don't know. But she was really determined. Honestly, for a while there, I was kinda convinced he was wearing a wig," Dice admitted.

Okay, that sounded more familiar. Cat really did have a way of pulling you into her world, but it was usually something silly like "imagine if all furniture was made by hamsters" or "what if Candyland was a real place?" This wig thing seemed...like a delusion. That part scared Sam (or it would if Sam got scared).

Dice hung around for a bit while Sam made coffee and ate dry cereal right out of the box. But eventually, he had to go home and help his Aunt Fergene with something. Sam didn't even have weird family activities to distract her, so she decided to take a shower, but the whole time she was in there, she thought about the time Cat made her draw the plans for a Super Shower with four shower heads to "get all the angles" so Sam didn't have to work so hard at scrubbing (she liked being clean, she just didn't like the labor that came along with it). 

Once she toweled off and dressed, Sam dug around her side of the room for her sketchbook and flipped to the drawing in question. Yep, there it was. After recalling Cat's demands for the design, Sam decided she wanted to think about something else, so she found a clean page and started a new doodle: a cartoon cat wearing a little pink cardigan. She filled the space with the cat doing different activities like napping, watching TV, and flipping pancakes. Basically, she put the tiny creature to work doing all the things that human Cat wasn’t there to do. By the time she was out of room to add anything else on the page, an hour had passed. 

It was still morning, but maybe late enough that Nona had been able to check in with Cat at the hospital. Except when Sam looked at her phone, she had no new messages or missed calls. Damn. Waiting sucked. She passed another hour watching some stupid show about house hunting but there weren't any challenges or anything, just chizheads with too much money to burn complaining about outdated appliances in houses nicer than anywhere Sam had ever lived.

Finally, her phone rang and she snatched it up to see Nona's name on the caller ID. "What's happening?" she demanded to know.

"Is this Sam?" came Nona's voice through the phone.

"You called Sam's number, of course this is Sam," she quipped back. But she knew this was stressful for both of them, so she sighed and asked, "How is she?"

"I just spoke with the doctor here and they say she had a psychotic episode. She's still on her seventy-two hour evaluation hold and then they may want to keep her here for anywhere from two to four weeks, for treatment."

"A month?! She can't be left in there for that long!" Sam knew how much it sucked to be locked away having spent time in both juvenile detention and the mental hospital (though that one had been her own decision). The days ran together, the food was pretty terrible, the beds were uncomfortable, the people could be mean or weird or both. "Can't we do anything?" she asked.

"Since she's eighteen," damn, if only this had happened a couple months ago, "there's not much I can do except advocate for her." Nona sounded like she'd been in this situation before and Sam realized that was because she probably had, given everything she'd heard about Cat's brother, Gio. 

There also wasn't really anything Sam could do other than let Nona handle things. "Then...what's next?"

"She'll be allowed visitation in about an hour."

"Call me after, let me know how it goes?"

"Of course."

-

That morning, Cat was woken up by a nurse named Ricky who checked her pulse with a plastic clip on her finger and took her temperature with a quick little zap to her forehead. Behind him was a pretty woman with a PearPad who recorded her vital signs as Ricky dictated them to her.

"Any nausea?" he asked.

"Uh, no?" The opposite, really. She was hungry.

"Dizziness?"

"I don't think so?" She'd just woken up, so it was a little hard to tell.

He checked her eyes with a tiny light shaped like a pen. _Oh_! That was probably why they called it a _pen-light_. "Julie's going to walk you to the bathrooms so you can handle what you need to, then when you get back, you'll have breakfast."

Julie smiled at her, handing Cat a pair of slippers and a small clear plastic case that held a travel toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, and a pack of tissues. The slippers were too big for Cat's feet, but they were warmer than walking on the cold floor. Julie guided her down the hall to a door with the women's bathroom sign on it, then held it open for Cat. It looked a lot like the bathroom at Hollywood Arts, except the stalls didn't have doors on them.

She didn't love the idea of using the bathroom in front of someone else (this was private, for chiz-sake), but she also knew from her brother that this was standard. Quickly, she handled her business and washed her hands. She was grateful for the opportunity to brush her teeth because her mouth felt icky, maybe from the medication, maybe from not knowing how long it had been since she'd had a drink of water. The comb was really too small for Cat's long hair, but she tried to smooth things out as best she could. In the mirror (which wasn’t even a regular mirror, but polished metal that gave off a dull reflection) was an exhausted version of herself she barely recognized, dressed in pale blue scrubs she barely remembered putting on at some point during the admission process.

"Finished?" Julie asked as Cat packed the toiletries back into the bag.

"Yeah," Cat decided.

She followed Julie back to her room, taking in as much as she could of the hallway and the other rooms along the way, but there wasn't really much to see. Back in her room, there was a tray with a bowl of oatmeal and a bottle of apple juice sitting on the desk. 

"Someone will be back for the tray in thirty minutes," Julie said, checking her watch.

Cat wondered how she was supposed to know how much time had passed if she didn't have a clock or a phone that told her what time it was. But she kept it to herself and began to eat the oatmeal. It was bland and not very good and she wished she could be at home with Sam, who always liked it when Cat mixed in fresh blueberries or cinnamon apples to hot cereal like this. This oatmeal was barely even warm. Still, she ate it, knowing they were watching her to make sure she was acting normally. At least the apple juice tasted like it was supposed to.

When someone came to pick up her breakfast tray, Cat had no idea if they were on time or late or early. After she'd finished eating she examined her room, but there was nothing to find. Just the furniture and the boring bare walls. She didn't even know where her regular clothes were, but they weren't in the small closet cubby that stood across from the desk. All it contained at the moment was the plastic toiletry case.

She sat on the bed, then kicked off her slippers and laid down to stare at the ceiling. Gio had told her how boring the hospital could be but she'd always imagined there to be some way to pass the time (in fact, she knew there had to be, based on other stories he'd shared). What if she sang something? But she didn't want to get in trouble for being too loud. Okay, she'd hum something, just so she could keep track of time. She and Jade used to sing the entire book to the musical _Downtown Loft_ when they were bored waiting around backstage at Hollywood Arts, supposedly there to do theater tech though they hadn't yet been trained to handle any of the power tools and lighting equipment. Cat still knew all the words, so she began to hum as she envisioned each of the characters taking the stage. She wondered if Jade still remembered all of these songs, too.

It was impossible to harmonize with herself.

-

The next time Sam's phone rang, it was a video call from Nona. She groaned before she answered, not really wanting to have to chat face-to-face. But this was all about Cat, so she supposed she could deal with it. She tapped to accept it but was surprised to find Cat's face filling the screen instead of Nona's.

"Sam!" Cat's voice sounded tired, but there was pure enthusiasm under the exhaustion.

She sat up. "Hey!" Her voice choked up for a moment, because she really hadn't been expecting this. "Um, hey," she said, again.

"Look!" Cat said, holding up her stuffed giraffe. "Nona brought me Mr. Purple."

That meant Nona must have Cat’s things from the trip because Sam knew the purple animal had been among the few that fit in her luggage. "I'm glad to see you've been reunited," Sam said as Cat clutched the little guy to her chest.

"Yeah, but he's not as good a hugger as you."

Sam shook her head. "Nah, I'm not a hugger."

"Yes, you are!" Cat argued. She glanced off screen, then appeared to settle down. "I forget I'm supposed to be quiet here."

"Yeah, they don't like it when you get too wild." Sam had a feeling this was probably a short call. "Listen, I know it gets boring there--"

"Ugh, tell me about it. I counted ceiling squares this morning. Fifty-four of them."

"--so if you're allowed to, you should write or draw as much as you can when you have to be in your room. It helps pass the time. Maybe help Mr. Purple with his autobiography."

A smile spread on Cat's face and Sam felt a warmth from it that was impossible to be projected through the phone. And also because smiles didn't generate heat. "Kay kay." Again, she looked somewhere off screen, then back at Sam. "I have to go. I miss you!"

Sam forced down the lump in her throat to reply, "I miss you, too."

The call ended, leaving Sam feeling lonelier than she had before she’d received it. Cat really was locked up somewhere in Arizona, somewhere Sam couldn’t go, for some stupid undetermined amount of time.

What was going to happen to her? Wait, what about the apartment? Someone had to pay the rent. Sam supposed she could take on their regular babysitting jobs, but Cat was the one who kept things organized with all the dates and times and...chiz, she was already overwhelmed trying to imagine it. But she needed to figure something out because when Cat returned home, she needed to have a home waiting for her.

There was a babysitting charge on the calendar, the big one that hung in the office-slash-craft nook across from the sliding doors out onto the patio. Sam had noticed it when she'd retrieved her colored pencils during her drawing session. It was just one kid, Howie, a quiet boy who liked to read. Normally, Sam tried to get him to join her in some kind of made up sport like Wacky Ball or Frisbee Face, but maybe having the little dude park himself on the couch to read Harry Potter or whatever might be just what she needed. 

When Howie's mom dropped him off, he definitely had a big book tucked under his arm, but it turned out to be the Jonas Book of World Records.

"What's this about?" she asked the kid, eyeing the large volume as he sat on his knees in front of the coffee table and whipped the cover of the book open.

"I got it from the library."

"Wow, those are still open?" Sam grabbed the cover and checked the edition. 2009. "This book's almost as old as you."

"I'm nine," Howie said with a sigh. "This book is only _four_ years old."

"Okay, so you're good at math. Big whoop." Sam nudged him out of the way so she could flip through the pages. "But I... _think_...I can show you something really cool," she said, scanning the index until she found what she wanted. "Check out..." Yep. There on page forty-nine. "This." Her fingers tapped a photo.

Howie leaned in to peer at the image on the page. "Most moving parts on a sculpture," he read, aloud. "I guess that's cool."

" _Look_." Sam waved the page in his face. "See that funny looking older dude?"

"Yeah."

"See that girl next to him?"

"Yeah." Howie looked closer, then squinted at Sam. "Do you know her?"

" _It's me_! Ugh, you'd be terrible at a police lineup. Which maybe is a good thing, now that I think about it."

"Did you make this sculpture?"

"No. Well. Kind of. I helped. My best friend's brother, Spencer, is a sculptor."

He rested his elbow on the table as he studied the picture. "Is she the pretty girl with the dark hair?"

"Yep. That's my best bud, Carly."

"Is that other guy her boyfriend?"

" _Ew_. No. That's Freddie. _My_ ex-boyfriend."

"Gross."

"Tell me about it."

Howie settled with his giant book and a Wahoo punch while Sam tried to make sense of the PearCal notifications in her inbox, the ones Cat had scheduled on their shared calendar to notify her of important things like babysitting dates and dentist appointments, the ones Sam usually just marked read and archived into the void without opening them. Cat was the kind of person who celebrated all the birthdays of her stuffed animals but also ran a business well enough to keep their rent paid and their groceries paid for. Sam still couldn’t understand how she could be locked away in some out-of-state psychiatric ward, hundreds of miles away. 

She hoped Nona was wrong about the amount of time Cat would be gone, but she had a feeling the woman knew what she was talking about, so she was already planning ways to help keep Cat entertained. If she couldn’t jump on her motorcycle and get to her, Sam would figure out a way to connect, to bring a little of their home into whatever bland room where they’d tucked Cat away.

-

After the visit from Nona and her short call with Sam (who looked tired and maybe a little bit sad, even though she was trying not to), Cat was served lunch in her room (a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, apple slices, and milk), then waited again for someone to come collect her tray. But before anyone showed up to retrieve it, Julie was back with an older woman in a white lab coat.

"Cat, this is Dr. Greene," Julie explained.

Cat had no idea who Dr. Greene was but she assumed it was part of her evaluation. She'd seen doctors like this before, a few years ago, right around the time her brother really started to show signs of schizophrenia. She'd sat in sessions and answered questions about how she felt and things she thought. That was around the time she'd been prescribed what she referred to as her "special vitamins" even though she knew they were really antidepressants. But she also knew, from watching her brother, that people got weird when they knew you took special medication for your brain, so...vitamins always sounded healthier.

"Hello, Cat," said Dr. Greene as she pulled out the desk chair and sat on it. Cat was already lying on her bed, so she sat up and swung her legs over the side, holding Mr. Purple in her lap.

"Hi." Cat watched as Julie picked up the tray from the desk and left the two of them alone.

"As Julie said, my name is Dr. Greene. I'm a psychiatrist and I'm here to ask you some questions." Dr. Greene clicked the pen in her hand and laid a notebook on the desk, positioning herself so she could both look at Cat and write things down.

"Kay kay," replied Cat.

"First of all, how old are you?"

"Eighteen. Just last month."

"And do you know where you are?"

Cat wasn't sure how specific she was supposed to be. And, technically, she didn't know which hospital she was in. "Arizona," she said, assuredly. "Uh, Pho-enix." Her eyes darted to the page where Dr. Greene jotted down notes. "I know I'm in the hospital. Like, the mental hospital."

"Great. And, for the record, you're at Phoenix General Hospital, in the psychiatric ward." Dr. Greene reached into her lab coat pocket and produced a business card which she handed over to Cat.

Sure enough, it said Phoenix General Hospital right across the top with the doctor's contact information underneath. "Okay. But why am I here?"

"That was my next question. Do you know why you're here?"

"Is it because I tore that boy’s hair out? Because I thought it was a wig! I really did. I swear."

That led to Dr. Greene making more notes, which made Cat feel compelled to further explain. "See, my friend Dice is a hair model and he was supposed to be on the cover of some hair magazine. But then it turned into a competition and Jett Zander showed up, flipping that blonde hair everywhere and...it just really looked like a wig."

"And you wanted your friend to be on the cover of this magazine?" Dr. Greene asked.

"Well, sure. It was why we even came to Pho-enix."

"Have you ever had strong feelings like that before? Where you wanted something so badly, you couldn't stop yourself from acting?"

Had she? Not quite like what had just happened. But she thought of one other time. "This one time, our teacher made a bet with us that we couldn't use our phones for a week and...oh god, I just wanted my phone back so badly. My friends had to sit on me and tie me to the stairs."

More notes. "Okay. Cat." Dr. Greene gave her a soft smile. "It looks like you had what's considered a psychotic break. Basically, that means your perception of reality wasn't necessarily what was actually happening."

Cat nodded. She knew that much. "My brother used to have those."

"Which brings me to family history. Because you have a sibling diagnosed with schizophrenia, it means there's a seven to eight percent chance that you may also have a genetic predisposition to it, as well. It doesn't mean _you do_ , it just means it's possible. Which is why, after your initial seventy-two hour evaluation, we'd like to keep you here at Phoenix General to monitor you for another few weeks so we can determine what caused this break to happen in the first place."

"Okay," Cat replied, quietly. Really, she was still hung up on the part about how it was possible she could be like Gio. She loved her brother, her big brother who fought monsters for her before it was clear he was battling something on his own, but his struggles had always scared her. It was why she happily took the medication she'd disguised as vitamins and didn't talk about how, sometimes, her mouth moved faster than her mind or how she heard what she was saying and didn't always understand why she'd phrase things a certain way. She didn't want to be another burden on her family, she didn't want to lose her friends, she didn't want anyone to worry about her. Which was why she’d so dutifully taken her medication and gotten it regularly refilled it over the phone.

Dr. Greene kept talking. "Because the anti-depressant you've been on isn't an SSRI, I'd like to taper you off of it and see where you are in a week so we can assess what's going on. We may put you right back on the Wellbutrin or we might find something that’s a better fit for you."

"And I have to do all that in Arizona?" She wanted to get back to her life, to her friends, to her side of the room filled with stuffed animals, to Sam.

"Once your initial evaluation period is over, you're legally allowed to leave the hospital. And you could certainly check yourself into a hospital in Los Angeles, but it would be much easier to do all of this in the same facility."

Cat considered what Dr. Greene was telling her. If she was like her brother, she knew staying where she was would be the best option. So many times, Gio would be checked into a program or a hospital, only to come home a few days later and have something else happen that sent him right back. "If I stay here, can I have my PearPad? So I can talk to my friends back home?"

Dr. Greene made another note. "We have very limited wifi access and no cellular signal inside the ward. But, after the initial seventy-two hour hold, we could certainly arrange for you to have the PearPad during visiting hours so you can stay in touch."

That made Cat feel better. Talking to Sam that morning, even just for a few minutes, had really boosted her mood. "Do I have to be in this room the whole time?"

"No. After the first three days, you'll be able to join the others in the community room."

"That sounds nice," Cat mused, stroking Mr. Purple's back.

Again, another soft smile from the doctor. "Did you have any questions for me?"

"Can I have, like, a book or something in here? It's _really boring_."

Dr. Greene laughed. "We do that on purpose." She made one more note before she stood up. "I'll have them send something to you from the hospital library. Can't make any promises on what they have available."

Later, when her dinner tray was brought in, there were two books sitting next to the plate of meatloaf and green beans. One was a collection of _Peanuts_ comics with Snoopy on the cover, the other looked like an old mystery novel. She happily flipped through the illustrated book as she ate, wondering why Charlie always fell for Lucy's old tricks when it came to that stupid football (she always said she'd hold it for him to kick, then pulled it away at the last second like a jerk). 

That night, she hummed the songs from _You're a Good Man Charlie Brown_ as she waited for lights-out. She hoped there were enough musicals to remember to get her through this whole thing.

-

Just before midnight, Sam remembered that it was about to be Saturday. Which meant it was almost time for her weekly Carly call. Because of the nine hour time difference, they'd settled on sometime between midnight and one in the morning for Sam, because Carly was almost always up by nine, Italy time (even on a Saturday, which Sam couldn't comprehend). When Carly had moved out of the country, Sam had been convinced she'd never be close to someone the way she'd been with her best friend. And, really, there was nothing that could compare to the years they'd spent together, everything they'd been though, and how much Carly meant to her.

But when she'd met Cat, there had been an immediate connection. Okay, maybe not quite immediate, because they were inside of a trash truck and the primary concern was getting out before being smashed by the compactor. It was practically that scene in Star Wars, which Sam decided made her just like Han Solo, which was cool because he didn't take shit from anyone, had a cool ship, and a Wookie by his side. And also he'd ended up with Leia, who was like the most badass chick in the galaxy.

So, yeah. She'd met Cat feeling pretty much like a hero who'd just saved a princess. In return, Cat had offered friendship, a place to live, and regular home-cooked meals. Wanting to keep Cat happy, make her laugh, and feel protected was something that came quickly and naturally to Sam. In the year they'd known each other, Sam knew she never wanted to see Cat cry, she'd fight anyone who underestimated her red-headed friend, and that she didn't mind cuddling on the couch late at night while they watched infomercials or old 80s movies (in fact, Sam really liked it). 

In some ways, the time Sam spent with Cat reminded her a lot of hanging out with Carly, but mostly it was different because they were very different people. Carly was a grounding force while Cat drifted along like balloons on a soft breeze. Meanwhile, Sam existed somewhere in the middle, the one who tested Carly's limits but helped Cat maintain hers. But then, Carly could be unpredictable and Cat loved to organize things in her PearCal. Sam was ultimately grateful to have both of them around, though neither of them were anywhere near her, at the moment.

Which, by the way, Carly was calling. Sam tapped to accept the call on her PearPad, sitting cross-legged on her bed with the tablet propped out in front of her.

"Hey," Sam offered with a tired smile.

"Heeeey," Carly replied, grinning back. She was drinking her usual morning cappuccino, like a real one from a tiny cup, that she'd made with her real Italian in-home espresso machine. It was one of those things Sam usually liked to tease her about because, come on. But, today she was quiet, distracted with thoughts about Cat in Arizona. Carly quickly picked up on the fact that Sam wasn't her usual self. "What's wrong?"

"Uh," Sam hadn't wanted to bog down her conversation with the details of what was going on, so she wasn't planning to talk about it. "Just personal stuff. Nothing to waste our call talking about, really."

"Sam. The point of doing this is to talk about personal stuff."

"Yeah, but this is like..." she sighed. "It's about Cat."

"Did you two have a fight or something?"

"No, she..." Sam wanted to protect Cat's privacy but then this was Carly and, if she was going to talk about it with anyone, it was her. "She's in the hospital."

"Oh my god! Is she okay?"

"She's in the psych ward. Something happened...it's not really my place to talk about, I guess. But she's gonna be there for a few weeks, at least."

"Sam," Carly said, softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Sam didn't even realize it was a lie until she heard herself say it.

"That sounds like it's crap."

"It is. I'm...sad. Or, I don't know. I just miss her."

"Can you visit her while she's there?" 

"No, because she's in Arizona and I--"

"--have a warrant out there, got it." This was another way Carly and Cat were alike, they remembered things about Sam that even Sam couldn't always keep straight.

"I guess I'm just worried about rent and bills and stuff, too." Another sigh. "Okay, this is boring. Tell me something fun and Italian. Did you hit anyone with your Vespa, yet?"

"No. I came kinda close to this tourist who was standing in the road taking selfies, but I dodged him at the last second."

"Shoulda hit him."

"I gave him a stern narrowing of the eyes as I passed by."

"I'm sure that hurt about the same."

Carly talked for a little while about what she was doing to prepare for her shift into university life. She was staying in Florence because she'd been accepted to the Digital Imaging and Visual Arts program at Florence University of the Arts. When she'd first mentioned it, Sam hadn't been able to resist teasing her about the fact that she was literally attending a program called DIVA ("sounds about right," she'd said and was met with a classic Carly side-eye).

"Something about studying art centered around technology right in the cradle of the Renaissance just feels really cool, you know?" Carly said.

That was when Sam realized she hadn't been listening. "Uh, yeah." She also wasn't sure what had even happened during the Renaissance, but that wasn't exclusive to today or this call.

"Sam."

"Hummuh?"

"You're really worried about Cat, I can tell."

"Yeah," Sam admitted, quietly.

"So, talk to me about it."

"I don't wanna bore you--"

"-- _talk to me_."

Sam swallowed and took in a long, steadying breath. She hadn't really let herself feel much about what was happening because it was easier to just focus on things like babysitting and figuring out what her next meal was going to be. But Carly had this way of making her deal with her stupid emotions, so...

"I'm scared, I think. Cat..." Sam still didn't want to break any trust she had with Cat in revealing too much about what had happened. But Carly was also thousands of miles away and her best friend and the only person she felt comfortable talking to about this, at the moment. "They think she had a psychotic break? I don't really know what that means but I know it’s not good."

"And that's why she'll be away for so long," Carly realized.

"Yeah, I guess. I just don't know what to do in the meantime. Like, I'm not the best at keeping things organized. Cat usually handles the shopping. And the cooking. And the bills. And she tells me when it's my turn to do stuff like take out the trash and vacuum the floors and stuff."

"Wait, hold on. You do housework?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Uh, yeah," scoffed Carly. "You're the kind of person who leaves their underwear on the stairs. Regularly."

"Well, we don't even _have_ stairs here." Sam adjusted her position so she could lie down, propping the PearPad up against a pillow. "Anyway, we agreed early on that I'd help with that stuff if Cat was cooking all the time. And I'm in charge of, like, if there's a bug in the house."

"Spider killer duty, huh?"

"Yeah, but she prefers a catch and release program," Sam laughed, lightly, then sobered as reality settled back in. "What if she doesn't come back?"

"They can't keep her there forever."

"What if they do, though? Her brother's in a place up in Idaho. Like, for good. Or a long time, anyway."

"Sam, everything you've told me about Cat sounds like she had a bad situation, but they're trying to figure it out, right?"

"Yeah. I'm just..." Sam pulled in a long breath, then pushed it back out. "It really sucks to have everyone I care about being so far away from me."

Carly's voice was soft as she said, "I know."

It was quiet for a moment, Sam considering what the distance had meant for her and Carly, what it could mean for her and Cat. "Can we please just watch some SplashFace videos of people getting hit in the face with lunch meats or something?"

"That's weirdly specific, but yes."

“I’m glad you get me, Carls.”

-

Cat's second day in the hospital started a lot like the first one, except she woke up much earlier, probably because she hadn't been sedated this time. Her understanding of the circumstances surrounding her first couple of days in the ward was that she wasn't supposed to wander the halls by herself, even to go to the bathroom, so she tried to pass the time by reading the novel she now kept alongside the _Peanuts_ book in her storage cubby. The book turned out to be about a cat who helped her owner solve mysteries which was a welcome surprise and managed to keep her busy until Nurse Ricky was back to check her vitals, again.

"I really need to use the bathroom," Cat expressed as he took her pulse and temperature.

"One sec, hon," Ricky assured her. 

A moment later, Julie was back with her PearPad to take down the details, then she walked Cat to the restroom but after she handled her basic morning routine, she led Cat to another part of the bathroom facility. There was a row of shower stalls (no curtains) and on one of the benches that sat just outside the first stall, there was a folded stack of clean scrubs, a towel and washcloth, and a pair of plastic flip flop sandals.

"Put your dirty clothes in there," Julie pointed to a plastic bin next to the bench. "And please make sure to wear the shower shoes, for your own protection."

“How come no one else is showering?” Cat asked.

“Patients brought in on a 5150 hold are kept separate from everyone else until the seventy-two hour hold is over. For safety reasons.”

Cat looked around for a changing room she knew wasn't there, then sighed before walking over toward the bench. Julie sat down on a separate bench that was closer to the front of the bathroom area, apparently trying to offer Cat as much privacy as was allowed (zero) as she pulled off her clothes and dropped them into the plastic hamper. With her new shower shoes on (too big just like the slippers), Cat entered the stall and turned on the water, waiting for it to warm. After a minute, she realized it wasn't going to ever get close to hot. Instead, it felt about like when Sam would forget she made coffee and Cat would find a cup on the counter or the coffee table or perched on the seat of Sam's motorcycle, just warm enough to not be cold.

Under the water, she began to soap up with the liquid soap from the dispenser mounted next to the faucet handle. There was no sign of shampoo, so she did her best to rinse her hair, not wanting to use body soap on her head. By the time she toweled off, she felt clean but also like her skin was already drying out from the institutional soap she'd just used. 

"After tomorrow, I can do all this on my own, right?" Cat asked, swapping out her shower shoes for her slippers. “You’re really nice and everything, but...it’s kinda weird.” It was really weird to do all of this with someone watching. Even she and Sam gave each other space with this kind of stuff, even though they shared a bathroom.

Julie offered a small smile. "Unless the doctor has reason to decide otherwise, yes, you’ll be allowed to escort yourself to the community areas of the ward." 

Cat wondered what kinds of things might make Dr. Greene change her mind as they walked back to her room. Again, her breakfast tray was waiting for her on the desk. More oatmeal and apple juice. Definitely not her favorite, especially two days in a row. But she knew this was part of being here, that they had to keep things boring to keep her calm. Gio had told her all about how life in the hospital moved like "a sad, quiet dream" most of the time, but she'd assumed part of that had been his medication. It made sense, though, that they would slow everything down like this.

She ate her breakfast, read her book, did some stretches she remembered from Sikowitz's class when they were studying voice and movement, and waited for someone to come tell her what was happening next.

-

Sam managed to make herself a breakfast of toaster waffles and half a salami that apparently Cat had been hiding from her (okay, Sam did have a tendency to eat things Cat was planning to use to cook a specific meal), but she still was only really eating out of the need to fuel her body versus her usual state which was Food Is So Good, I Love Food.

Finally, her phone rang, later than the day before, with Nona's number. It was a regular call, not a video one, and Sam's bad feeling was validated when she answered and Nona explained that they hadn't allowed Cat to participate on a video call during this visit.

"But says she misses you," Nona offered.

Sam thanked Nona for the call and they both agreed she'd try again for the video chat the next day. Meanwhile, Sam trudged through the apartment, trying to figure out just what she planned to do. She definitely needed to find a way to bring in more money, because even when Cat came home (she was definitely coming home, Sam decided), it needed to be low stress and Sam didn't want her worrying about rent and bills. All of the jobs Sam was qualified for that were listed on the FindMyJob app sounded like torture, though she was willing to put up with it, at least for a while, if it meant things would be better for Cat. As she scrolled, she landed on a listing for a retail job, which normally wouldn't be her thing, but this...

She exited the app and pulled up her contact list, sliding her finger across the screen until she landed on the number she wanted. The phone rang once, then it immediately picked up.

"Sam?"

"Hey, Freddie. What was the name of that manager from the PearStore? Meredith? Cheryl?"

"Hello to you, too."

"Yeah, hi. Come on, this is important."

"I'm sure life hangs in the balance as you try to remember the name of someone you worked for two years ago. For less than a week."

"I didn't call for your sass, I need to know this."

"Her name was Natalie."

"Yes!" Sam looked around for something to write on. And something to write with. She ended up with a blue crayon and a pizza box. "That's right. Natalie," she repeated, scribbling the name on the cardboard between the images of pizza and a chubby-cheeked Italian chef.

"How come you need to--"

"Thanks, Freddie. Good talk. Bye." 

"Sam--"

She hung up on him, knowing he'd probably immediately text her to complain about her phone etiquette, but that was pretty much how things had always been between them. Anyway, she didn't have time for that. She had to figure out how to fake a resume so she could apply for a PearStore sales position at the Grove. It wasn’t something she needed for the application itself, but they’d want one if she was called in for an interview (and she was pretty sure she could land one with Natalie as a reference).

-

After lunch, another tray of peanut butter and jelly, apple slices and milk, Cat had another visit with Dr. Greene. She came in, notebook and pen in hand, and greeted Cat with a smile, “Hello, Cat. How are you feeling today?”

“Fine,” Cat replied, not sure what other word to use. She didn’t feel like she even had much of a mood at all, honestly, and at least she was a little less bored with the books she’d been brought.

“Glad to hear it,” Dr. Greene replied, keeping her attention on Cat even as her pen made a note on the paper. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions.” Cat nodded. She’d been expecting that. “First of all, how old are you?”

“Eighteen,” Cat replied.

“And do you know where you are?”

“I’m at Pho-enix General Hospital, in the psychiatric ward,” Cat recited, picturing in her mind the little business card she’d been given that was currently serving as a bookmark in her mystery book.

“Great. And do you know why you’re here?”

Cat was aware that these were the exact same questions she’d been asked the day before, but she kept that to herself. It was probably all part of procedure. “I...attacked that boy,” she said quietly, avoiding Dr. Greene’s eyes, “Because I was _sure_ he was wearing a wig,” she felt compelled to add, to try to explain. 

Dr. Greene nodded, “Yes, of course.”

“Is that why I have to shower separately from everyone else?” Cat asked.

Dr. Greene paused, regarding Cat for a moment. “Because you were technically brought in on a potential assault charge, yes. You’re being kept separate so we can assess whether or not you’re a danger to anyone else.”

“I’m not violent,” Cat whispered, frowning hard. It felt really important to say, it felt _really_ important for people to understand that. She was trying to expose a liar and a fraud and...she couldn’t really explain what had happened. It was hard to make full sense of the moment she found herself on top of the boy, his hair caught in her fingers.

Dr. Greene smiled, “I don’t think you are, either, but we have to be cautious. Is it okay if I ask you a few more questions?”

“I guess,” Cat replied, hoping she wouldn’t have to talk about the incident with the boy again.

“I’d like you to tell me about a time in your life when you were really happy.”

Cat felt herself begin to smile as a million tiny moments flooded her mind. Getting into Hollywood Arts. Making forts out of couch cushions with Gio when they were little. Acting in Jade’s short films with Robbie. When Sam helped her track down her other special shoe and steal it from that girl in the hospital. But she had a feeling she needed a really _good_ memory, like the kind of memory they used to make Patronuses in the _Harry Potter_ movies she’d watched (even though she wasn’t supposed to watch them, because her parents worried they would contribute to her over-active imagination; before she got into Hollywood Arts and they realized her imagination had a healthy outlet, they’d worried that she’d confuse fantasy with reality).

So she chose a really strong memory to tell Dr. Greene about.

“So this one time, in high school, my friends and I were going to be in the Parade Parade, so I designed a giant cupcake for us to ride in, and we all wore candy pajamas, but on the way to the parade, the cupcake broke down, and it was the middle of the night in a part of town that was definitely not Sesame Street, and Sikowitz went to try to get help and didn’t come back, so Tori went to try to get help and came back with some tough guys who _loved_ parades, and they helped us make the cupcake work again and then rode with us to the parade and we all sang _the wheels on the cupcake spin around_!” Cat started singing at the end of her story, bouncing lightly on her bed with the joyful energy the story ignited in her, but even as she was telling it, she could tell that everything was coming out faster than even she could keep up, words flooding her mind and coming out of her mouth before she could fully evaluate them. She wanted what she was saying to make sense, because she _knew_ that this was a true thing that had happened, but she also realized that it might not sound like it to someone who wasn’t there.

“I see,” Dr. Greene said neutrally, writing something in her notebook. “And can you think of a time when you maybe told a story that wasn’t true, or was different than other people remembered it?”

Cat paused, because at this, her mind went blank. She knew sometimes that the way she talked about things didn’t always quite match what other people said, but it was never so extreme that it felt like she was lying. Just that she remembered things a little differently. She guessed there was one time, though, that kind of stood out. “One time my friend Tori’s sister Trina was almost hurt at school because her harness broke and she fell and we all had to go to the guidance counselor to be questioned because no one thought it was an accident but when they asked me what happened all I could think about was an episode of _Drake and Josh_ so I started describing that instead of what I remembered happening but everyone was telling a different story anyway and that made it hard to be sure what I remembered happening.”

Dr. Greene nodded, and Cat had a sinking feeling that she hadn’t done herself any favors just now. God, why couldn’t she sometimes just take a minute to think before she spoke? “Okay, Cat, thank you. That’s all I need from you for today.”

“Am I--” Cat started, taking a breath to try to consider how best to ask her question, “Will I need to be by myself after tomorrow?”

Dr. Greene regarded her, warmth and compassion in her eyes, but her tone was measured as she spoke, “We’re still evaluating you, and I don’t want to make any promises. But most likely, you’ll be able to join the others.”

“And my PearPad?”

“It’s also likely you’ll have access to it after tomorrow.”

Cat nodded, sinking back down onto her mattress as Dr. Greene left, clutching Mr. Purple.

Maybe tomorrow, she’d get to talk to Sam. And if not tomorrow, then likely the next day.

She remembered Dr. Greene asking about other times when she couldn’t control herself, and she knew that if there was any chance of talking to Sam, right now, she’d be acting the same exact way she had that week when Sikowitz took their phones.

-

Sam tried to get her shit together. She really did.

She started trying to put together her resume before realizing just how much she would have to embellish and not really knowing where to start with that. She started trying to make a plan for the week, staring at Cat’s calendar and the babysitting jobs already booked, wondering whether she could even take on any more than the ones already there. She even started trying to clean up a little, throwing away a pizza box and shoving some crusty bowls into the dishwasher before she started getting overwhelmed by all of the mess she’d managed to accumulate in just a few days.

She thought maybe she should eat something, though she didn’t know what, and stood with her head in the refrigerator for so long that it started beeping to warn her that it had been left open. She couldn’t even plan a meal, couldn’t even start formulating a grocery list that would help her make one.

She had no idea how Cat managed and regulated any of this stuff when half the time she seemed to live in a fantasy world in her own mind, where she could talk to goats and where Abraham Lincoln might be a British lady. But Cat did, and she did it well, and she asked Sam for help when she needed it. But Sam didn’t have anyone to ask, and she just didn’t know where to start with any of it.

Frustrated and overwhelmed, she gave up, hopped on her bike, and went to get a bucket of fried chicken, taking it home and flopping onto her bed with it. But even this made her melancholy, because she would usually bring Cat a spicy breast meal if she went to get fried chicken, and she just knew that everything was going to keep reminding her that _Cat wasn’t here_. And that she really didn’t know what she was going to do without her for a month.

As she lay on her tangled sheets, wiping her greasy fingers on her t-shirt and dropping her chicken bones carelessly around her, she realized that Cat had probably anticipated this. That was probably why she’d had Nona come and stay with Sam. What Sam had regarded as an annoyance was probably just Cat looking out for her.

_Fuck_.

Sam thought about texting Carly. But what would she even say? _This sucks_? She knew it sucked. Carly already knew it sucked. It was like four in the morning in Italy, anyway. Sam had been by herself for like two days and she was already losing it.

Nah, she would figure this out, somehow. She had to.

She just wasn’t about to do it tonight.

-

After dinner (some kind of beef stew, it looked like, but she wasn't sure), Cat read more of her book for a while, but she wanted to save some for the next day since she knew she'd be stuck in her room, again. While she couldn't have her PearPad until Monday, she'd asked for a notepad and pen, which had been delivered with her dinner tray. The reason she'd requested it was partly because Sam recommended it and because she also remembered Gio talking about how much therapists loved journaling. The idea of writing things down at least meant she'd have a way to pass the time which was appealing in a place where things were just so darn boring.

At first, Cat assumed she wouldn't have much to say about her very non-eventful days in the hospital, but as she began to describe the few people she'd met (Nurse Ricky, Julie, Dr. Greene), documenting details like how Julie's ponytail reminded her of a movie about cheerleaders or how Dr. Greene's colorful socks made Cat smile on the inside (even if she was quiet and non-smiley on the outside), she ended up filling three pages of the notepad before her hand started to hurt from writing so much. After that, she did more of her acting class stretches and even softly recited a round of vocal warm ups ( _the lips the teeth the tip of the tongue_ ), both to pass the time and to make her feel like she was still Cat Valentine. Without all of her animals and her favorite music and Sam around to make her laugh, she needed a way to keep in touch with the things she enjoyed and acting was a big part of that.

When she was able to talk to her friends regularly, she decided she needed to remind Jade that she'd always be available to act in any of her student projects at film school. She wondered how much she'd see her friends with all of them going off to college or already getting professional work. And now, already, Cat felt like she was falling behind, stuck in this hospital room until they let her out. She knew she could technically leave after tomorrow, but she was also aware that she'd been brought in because she'd attacked someone and had no idea if there were charges against her or what.

Maybe that was a good question to ask her doctor. Or did she need a lawyer? Okay, maybe she should talk to Nona before anyone else.

That night, she hummed herself to sleep with _Spring Awakening_ and had a dream that she and Sam took a trip to Germany where they spend the entire trip tracking down a specific kind of sausage.

-

In the morning, Sam woke up with a chicken bone stuck to the side of her face (not the first time) and shuffled into the bathroom. As she pulled the last of the toilet paper off the roll, she automatically called out, "Cat, we need more toilet paper in here!" She was still groggy from sleep as she flushed and washed her hands, but as she dried them off on her shirt, she realized she'd have to restock the bathroom herself. With a groan, she checked the cabinet under the sink, but there wasn't anything but various hair products and soaps and...a half empty bag of mini marshmallows? She snatched the bag and continued her search, snacking on the candy (they were a little old and chewy but still edible and that was enough) while she checked Cat's side of the closet, knowing there definitely weren't any paper goods stored on her own side. 

Ugh, it was also a reminder that she needed to figure out what to do about her dirty clothes. Usually Cat took care of things like that. Cleaning. Cooking. Shopping. Everything. Huh. Maybe Sam needed to reevaluate what she contributed to their living situation. She picked up the empty chicken bucket and began to gather the bones that were still scattered in her sheets, but then that made her think that she probably needed to wash the sheets. After pulling the sheets off and balling them up at the foot of her bed, she decided she needed to do something with the bucket of bones and carried them into the kitchen, but the trash can was full. She set the bucket on the counter and tied up the garbage bag. But she hadn't had breakfast yet, so she decided she'd haul it out after eating (remembering at least to wash her hands after handling the trash because Cat always sang a little jingle about washing away bacteria whenever Sam took the garbage out so it was already in her head). The easiest option was cereal, so she poured herself a bowl and dumped the last of the milk over it (Cat kept a grocery list somewhere, she knew) and parked herself in front of the television while she ate.

Four episodes of _Toilet Wars_ (there was a marathon) later, Sam's phone rang and that was when she realized she'd never gotten back up from the sofa after eating breakfast. 

It was a video call from Nona's number. Sam didn't want to get too excited, just in case it was actually just Nona, but as soon as she saw Cat's face on the screen, she released a sigh and smiled wider than it felt like her face could handle. She immediately sat up, as it that would help her see better.

"Sam! Hi, Sam!" greeted Cat, matching her with a happy face of her own.

It was stupid that maybe she felt like she might cry or something. She didn't, though. "Hey, Cat."

"I'm sorry we missed yesterday. They wouldn't let me--"

"It's okay. How's it going in there?"

"It's pretty boring, but I've been reading this book about a cat named Pickles who solves crimes that I like."

Of course Cat would find something positive about being locked up in the hospital. "Do you know how long you have to stay?" 

"Well, Dr. Greene says a couple weeks, for sure. She wants to change my special v--" Cat stopped herself and chose different words. "She wants me to try different medication," her words were cautious, as if she was maybe afraid of telling Sam something she didn't want to hear.

Sam knew Cat took pills she referred to as "special vitamins" that definitely weren't nutritional supplements. She'd seen the bottle in passing enough to know it was an antidepressant, but she'd never assumed it was any of her business to ask. "Then it's probably a good idea," Sam replied.

A small smile passed across Cat's face, but it was bigger in her eyes that it was on her lips. "Are you okay? Being by yourself?"

"Me?" Sam shrugged, exaggerating an air of casual coolness. "I'm fine."

"I'm worried you'll forget you need to go to the store and then you'll be mad when there's no food."

Okay, she wasn't wrong. "I mean, I know how to go to the store. I just need to know where you keep the grocery list."

"It's always clipped to the side of the fridge."

"Well, it's not like I'm ever looking at the outside of the fridge." Maybe now was also a good time to ask, "Um, also...do we have more toilet paper?"

"Yeah, where it always is."

"Which is..."

"In the hall closet."

"We have a hall closet?"

"Yeah, it's in the hall," explained Cat.

Sam rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling at the simplicity of Cat's reply. "I figured that much. I guess I just never used it."

"Well, that figures."

" _Hey_."

Someone rang the bell and, even through the phone, Cat seemed to pick upon it. "Ding-dong!"

"Ugh, one sec," Sam said, setting the phone down and quickly lunging for the door to open it and find out who was interrupting her conversation. "What?"

It was Tori. And Jade. " _What_ to you, too," said Tori, looking slightly offended.

"Sorry, I'm...uh, come in." Sam abandoned the door and retrieved the phone from the couch. "Hey, it's Tori and Jade," she said, to Cat.

"Oh yeah, it's Funday!" Cat replied, referencing her title for their Sunday hangouts with her friends. "Hold me up so I can say hi."

Sam held up the phone to the two visitors. "Cat wants to say hello," she said, realizing she wasn't sure if she should say anything else about where Cat was or why she was on a video chat.

" _Hiiii_!" squealed Cat as she greeted them.

"Hey, Cat," Tori said, with a wave.

"Where are you?" demanded Jade, stepping forward to get a closer look at the phone.

But Sam pulled back, earning a set of raised eyebrows from Jade. Fortunately, Cat kept talking. "I'm in the hospital."

"Oh my god, what happened?" Tori asked, stepping up to where Jade was standing. Jade seemed to elbow Tori and said something unintelligible to her that Sam couldn't make out.

"I'm gonna slip in the back for a second to finish our chat," Sam said. 

Jade nodded but Tori still looked a little confused. Whatever, that wasn't Sam's problem. 

"Bye, Jade! Bye, Tori!" called Cat. 

Sam closed herself in the bedroom and sat on Cat's bed, refocusing on the video chat. "They're gonna ask questions about where you are, you know."

"It's okay. You can...tell them. Jade knows Gio so...oh, but be sure to tell her I'm not like him. She'll worry if she thinks I've done things like he has. I don't want her to be afraid of me."

It made sense that Jade might have some experience with the Valentine family's medical history, given that she'd been Cat's friend since junior high. "Okay, I don't think _Jade_ is ever going to be afraid of you," consoled Sam.

"She is pretty scary herself, huh," Cat considered. She was quiet, in a sad kind of way, her eyes fixed somewhere just off screen.

"Hey, hey. Cat. Look at me." She waited until she had Cat's gaze back on her. Or the screen, at least. "Me and your other friends, your real friends. We're here for you. Okay?" There was a small nod from Cat. Sam looked down at the stuffed animals that were taking up most of the bed. "Old Octopus Charlie here can't wait for you to come back and snuggle," she pointed the camera at the pink stuffed octopus. Then she picked up the yellow stuffed duck, "And Dr. Duckley wishes she could be there with you."

"It's her birthday on Tuesday!" Cat declared. Seeing the stuffed animals seemed to have perked her up.

"Guess that means I have to make a cake," said Sam.

"Oh! She would _love_ that!"

Sam had no intention of making a cake for a stuffed duck, but now she figured she'd have to do something for this duck's birthday. "I guess we'll see what happens."

"Oh, they're saying I have to get off the phone. But I should get my PearPad back tomorrow."

"Then I'll talk to you tomorrow," Sam confirmed.

"I really hope so. Miss you."

"Yeah. Me too. We all do." She turned the phone back to pan across the stuffed animals behind her before the video cut off.

Sam wished there weren't other people in the apartment, because all she wanted to do was lie on Cat's bed and wait for her to come home.

-

Cat was elated after talking with Sam, even if it had only been for a few minutes during visitor’s hours. Nona had also relayed a message from her parents, saying they were concerned about her and wanted her to trust the doctor's advice. _Duh_. That's what the doctors were for. And...she wasn't really angry with her parents, but maybe that was because she'd learned not to expect much from them. 

Lunch was, again, that same PB&J, apples, and milk. Cat didn't mind the repetition, finding it a little comforting to know what to look forward to. That was probably the point.

Dr. Greene returned, sitting in the desk chair, pen poised over her notepad.

"How are you feeling today, Cat?"

"Good. I'm happy I was able to talk to my Nona and then Sam on video chat." 

"And Sam is?"

"My friend. A really good one," she said, fondly.

Dr. Greene smiled at her. "I'm glad you have someone like that." She referred to her notes. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right?"

"Okay, but I'll tell you right now, I'm eighteen and I'm at Pho-enix General Hospital." Cat noticed the way Dr. Greene paused. "And I'm here because I attacked a boy whose hair looked a lot like a wig." She forced herself to slow down, to take a breath. "Sorry to get snippy but, ugh, these questions."

It looked a lot like maybe Dr. Greene was suppressing a smile. "Your frustration is natural and it's a good sign, honestly."

"Oh." That made her feel better.

"I'd like for you to tell me a little bit about your friend Sam. How did you meet?"

"We met in a garbage truck."

"As in you were driving one?"

"No, on the inside. I was saving a kitten out of a trash can and then I dropped my gum, so I was looking for it and then I guess the truck came along and grabbed the trash can. It dumped me into the back and Sam showed up and rescued me after I went non-conscious from being too scared." Even as she spoke, Cat realized how out of the ordinary this story sounded. "It's really true. If you want Sam's number, you could call--"

"It's okay," Dr. Greene spoke in a calm tone as she finished another line in her notes. "There aren't any right or wrong answers to these questions. Everything you're saying and feeling is valid to you and that's all that matters."

"I just don't want you to think I'm imagining things."

"Why does that bother you so much?"

"Because then you'll think I'm like my brother."

"Giovanni," Dr. Greene said, referring to her notepad.

Cat nodded. "When he still lived at home, he would talk about things that weren't real. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes it was scary."

"Why do you think you assume someone would think your story about meeting Sam wasn't real?"

"Because no one meets in a garbage truck. But we did! It happened. And she's real," Cat insisted. But then she started to panic. The inkling of the idea that somehow she'd made Sam up began to creep into her thoughts. Sam was a celebrity who shared her bedroom and laid on the couch and ate all the meatballs. Was that crazy? She could feel her heart rate picking up. "She has to be," Cat said, quietly.

Dr. Greene's full attention was on Cat. "I'd like for you to take a deep breath, okay?" Cat did as she said. "Then exhale." The look on the doctor's face was one of reassurance. "You should know that anyone a patient speaks to, whether in person or over the phone, is logged in their file. And there's confirmation that you've spoken with Samantha Puckett via video call both on Friday and this morning."

Cat sighed in relief. " _Oh god_ , I'm so glad."

"What were you feeling just now?"

"I was worried that if I'd made Sam up, that it meant I didn't have a best friend who cares about me as much as she does."

"To be honest, I'd hate to lose a friend like that, too."

-

Instead of the intended trip to the Santa Monica Pier that Tori and Jade had planned with Cat, they ended up taking Sam out for hamburgers. Sam didn’t know if Tori’s eyes were bigger than her stomach or if it was part of some plan, but Tori had definitely over-ordered and let Sam take home her leftovers. Sam was grateful, because even cold, hamburgers and fries were always a good meal. They also swung by Jet Brew for coffee before Tori and Jade headed back to their side of town, so Sam ended up with a large cup of black coffee, because why not?

After she got dropped off at home, she figured she’d better actually get to work. The coffee was helping with that. She didn’t need coffee the way Jade did, but she’d learned over time that it tended to help her focus when she needed to accomplish things. And she was used to drinking it black. Cream and sugar were never guaranteed in her house growing up.

She had an email from the PearStore, inviting her to an interview the next day. That was fast. Faster than Sam was ready for. She still needed to finish that resume. So she set that aside for now. Maybe she didn’t really need a job at the PearStore. She _could_ do it, she knew she was capable. But of course she didn’t really want to.

So instead, she considered groceries. She found Cat’s list, attached to the fridge. Only a few things were on it: _ground beef, chicken breast, milk, cereal, lemonade_. Sam figured she’d scratch off the first two, because she wasn’t convinced she’d ever actually get around to making something with them. She added toilet paper to her list, but then remembered what Cat said about the hall closet.

And yep, there was the hall closet that she’d certainly noticed but never bothered to look at. And inside were several rolls of toilet paper, a jug of laundry detergent, some clean sheets and towels, a couple of assorted cans of soups and vegetables, and several cans of ham, specifically Sham brand canned ham, with a little label on the shelf that said _Sam’s_.

Sam blinked and stared. She had no idea that there was extra canned ham in this closet. It was something they kind of always had in the kitchen, but Sam assumed Cat just bought it regularly at the store for her (since it wasn’t something Cat ever ate). It appeared she definitely did, to the point that she kept overflow in the hall closet to ensure that Sam never ran out.

There was that sense, again, of Sam considering just how much Cat did to keep this household running. She wasn’t quite overwhelmed by it this time, but she let the weight of it sink in, again wondering what she even contributed. Why did Cat even want her here? She couldn’t even pay rent on time.

The thought passed through her mind that maybe _she_ had contributed to Cat’s mental break. Maybe the stress of living together had caused Cat to finally crack.

Sam shut the hall closet, then paused, reopening it to grab a can of ham, and then sat down on the couch with her computer. She made a list of tasks she needed to accomplish, because it was clear to her that she would need to make some changes. Changes she was _fully capable_ of doing, especially now that she had the right motivation. If Cat were going to come home to her, she’d need to make it a place where she’d be less stressed by all the minutiae of running a household.

Sam emailed back the PearStore to confirm her interview, because she would definitely need a job to support them both. She realized she’d need an outfit to wear. She took a breath before she could spiral, and started making a list.

_Put together an outfit for interview_

_Finish resume_

_Go to interview_

_Make grocery list_

_Go to grocery store_

_Get a bank account so all your money isn’t just in a pineapple_

_Figure out how Cat pays bills_

_Pay off rent debt_

_Do laundry_

_Take out trash_

_Run dishwasher_

It didn’t all have to be done today. But some of it could be. And having a list with things to check off would help her stay on task.

By nighttime, Sam had crossed a couple of things out on her list (easier, smaller things, but little victories were still victories) and thought of something else she needed to do. Cat had mentioned Dr. Duckley’s birthday was coming up and though there was no way Sam was actually going to throw a stuffed animal birthday party in an apartment by herself, she at least wanted to acknowledge it in some way that Cat could appreciate.

So Sam sat down on Cat’s bed with her sketchbook and began to lay out a scene on the page: a little cartoonish image of Dr. Duckley, excitedly staring at a huge birthday cake with several candles on it (Sam had to guess at the stuffed animal’s age). She drew several other stuffed animals surrounding her, celebrating with her.

And then she added the image of the little cartoon cat she’d created the other evening, the one who wore a little pink cardigan and did all the things Cat did when she was home. She let the cat join the party and then, on a whim, added an image of a little dog, with a face like a German Shepherd but with golden fur, wearing a vest and sitting and watching the birthday party from afar.

She hoped that it translated to Cat.

By the time she was finished with her drawing, it was getting a little late, and Sam was actually kind of tired. Just being productive seemed to take a lot out of her, even if all she really did was throw together her resume, find some clean clothes for her interview, gathered up her dirty clothes, ran the dishwasher and washed what didn’t fit in it, and finally took out the trash, including the chicken bucket, that she’d left tied up that morning. She’d also added a few more things to the grocery list, but she wanted more time to think of things before she considered going maybe the next day. But it felt like a lot.

One thing she hadn’t done, though, was her laundry, beyond stripping her bed and balling up her sheets and blankets and throwing the rest of her dirty clothes in a pile (which wasn’t that much, considering Nona had just done her laundry the other day). And no clean sheets meant her bed was nothing but a mattress.

She knew where they kept extra sheets and blankets now, but Sam wasn’t about to make her bed. She didn’t have the energy for it. Instead, she put on clean pajamas and got back into Cat’s bed, and slept surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals that tumbled all over her as she shifted in the night.

Even without food in bed with her, she slept well that night, face pressed into a pillow that smelled like Cat.

-

That evening there had been a sheet of paper that was delivered along with her dinner. On the page was a schedule that Cat assumed would be the makeup of her remaining days in the hospital.

**Wake Up**

**Breakfast**

**Group Therapy**

**Visitation/Community Time**

**Lunch**

**Individual Therapy**

**Community Time**

**Dinner**

**In-Room Free Time**

**Lights Out**

Based on her conversation with Dr. Greene and the meeting she'd had with Julie just after dinner, Cat was aware that her seventy-two hour hold would expire overnight (technically sometime around two in the morning) and she was no longer being involuntarily held in the facility. But she was also planning to go along with Dr. Greene's plan to further evaluate her and possibly change her meds to something that might...well, Cat wasn't sure what the difference would be. She mostly hoped it meant she'd be unlikely to have another break like the one she'd just experienced. 

Maybe it would help her think more clearly (sometimes her thoughts were cloudy, even when she knew she had a point to make) or let her slow down when her words started pouring out of her mouth (she always knew what she wanted to say and how she wanted to sound, but there was no stopping the avalanche of words, at times). All she could really hope for was that, when the three weeks were over, that Sam would still be at the apartment and that she'd still want to be her friend.

More than that, she wanted Sam to be...well, more than that. 

Ever since that day she came home and found the apartment filled with furniture and props from _That's a Drag_ , Cat knew Sam was special. She'd been so touched by the act of kindness (one Cat still wasn't sure how Sam had pulled off) and it had left her with a fuzzy feeling about her new friend, one that was more than the comfort of hanging out with Jade or Tori. Sure, Sam was fun (sometimes more than) in the same ways as her other friends, but there was more to it. 

Like how she made Cat feel protected whenever someone mean was around or when she was scared. Or how she never talked down to Cat and even when she teased her about things, it was always with a smile. And how she loved Cat's cooking (except maybe some of her more experimental foods) and came up with wild ideas about how to entertain the kids they babysat and let Cat snuggle with her on the couch at night when they watched TV. There was no one else she’d ever had as much fun with in her entire life. 

Cat knew (had known for a while) that she loved Sam. She only hoped that this weekend hadn't ruined any chance she had of Sam loving her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _A Thousand Miles_ by Vanessa Carlton
> 
> **Next time on _Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay):_**
> 
> It was the Thursday of her second week in the hospital, just past the halfway point. She adjusted to the routine of her days, the predictable meals, the boring daytime television in the community room, her group therapy sessions where no one really said much, and her individual therapy sessions with Dr. Greene where she talked as much as she wanted. There were also nearly daily video calls with Sam during visitor’s hours (they were barely long enough to say much more than hi to each other, but she did know Sam had gotten a job at the PearStore) and, as of the Tuesday of her second week, she’d been getting a letter in the mail every single day. The letters were from Sam and were usually just something like, “Where do spaghetti and sauce go to dance? The meat ball.” And on the back would be a picture she’d drawn of dancing pasta or Dr. Duckley’s birthday party. 
> 
> Cat had begun to hang the drawings on the wall along her bed, happy to have something of Sam there in the room with her. The images made her miss being home, but they also reminded her that someone was waiting for her when she got there.


	2. Homecoming: Even if you lose me, I will find you, There's no way to stop it, So don't try to

It was late Friday night, practically Saturday morning. Sam had almost slept through the alarm she'd set for the call, but the song she'd chosen ("Fight Me" by _Vic's Revenge_ ) had finally bled through into her dream and woken her up.

She was still a little groggy as she cracked open a fresh root beer and opened up her PearBook on her bed. Soon, though, the sugar perked her up and the knowledge that she'd be talking to her best friend soon enough had her feeling more awake. When the laptop began to chime the incoming call jingle, Sam tapped the track pad and answered, unable to stop herself from belching from the soda just as Carly's image appeared on her screen.

"Aaand that's a Sam Puckett hello, if I've ever heard one."

"Trying to wake myself up," Sam explained.

"You fell asleep? It's barely midnight."

"Yeah, but I've been getting up at nine because of this job."

"How's it going?" Carly asked.

Sam had been reporting to her new position at the PearStore every day this week, working on the sales floor of the store at The Grove. The people were kind of annoying and she didn't know enough about the super nerdy stuff to directly answer questions, but she still just had a knack for talking customers into buying things. Which was the point, especially because she was working on commission. "It's good, I guess. For a job. My manager, Bianca, is real type-A and keeps threatening to write me up for not using her forms properly. But then she forgets about that when she sees my numbers, so..."

"Wow, you sound like a real salesperson."

"Gross." Sam didn't mention that her new boss also kind of reminded her of Cat (small and scrappy) so it was kind of a bittersweet reminder that her other friend was still not home from Arizona.

“No, it’s good, I think,” Carly scrutinized her through the laptop screen, “I remember that it was something you were good at. They promoted you really fast last time.”

“That’s on the table if I keep performing well,” Sam admitted, “But I don’t know. I’d rather just sell stuff and make my commission. Last time I only did it to show Freddie up.”

“You do need to be properly motivated to work,” Carly agreed with a grin. “How’s everything else going?”

“What do you mean?” Sam deferred, not really wanting to talk about how much she was missing Cat.

“I mean, with the house and everything. You sent me those texts this week about how you were taking care of housework and stuff.”

Sam groaned, “I’m _trying_ , but it’s _hard_.”

Carly’s brow furrowed, “Oh no.” It was a tone Sam recognized, light but bracing, one that she’d heard directed at Carly’s older brother, Spencer, countless times. And, okay, at herself, too. “What does the house look like right now?”

“You really want to know?” Sam asked. When Carly nodded, she sighed and picked up her PearBook, and began walking Carly through the house, computer in front of her to show the mess that had accumulated in a week.

“ _Sam_ ,” came Carly’s voice through the speakers as Sam showed her the living room. She turned the laptop back around and sat on the couch with it. Carly’s expression was sympathetic, but her tone was mildly exasperated, “You _know_ how to do this stuff. You pretty much managed your household all through your childhood, especially after Melanie went away to boarding school.”

“Yeah, but I was also always at your house and eating your food,” Sam pointed out.

“I remember,” Carly smiled wryly. Her tone was a bit hesitant as she continued, “When you have someone else around to take care of your needs, you do get a little...complacent,” she offered delicately. Sam could already feel herself scowling. “But none of this is _beyond_ you, Sam.”

“I _know_ that.”

“Okay, hold on,” Sam could hear Carly tapping at her keyboard. “Let’s make a list.”

“I already did that,” Sam groaned.

“Let’s make another one,” Carly insisted. Sam recognized this as Carly in what she thought of as _responsibility mode_. Like her, Carly had run her own household when she was too young for the responsibility, since Spencer hadn’t exactly been adept at handling a lot of the minor details (though Spencer Shay’s brand of chaos was a far cry from Pam Puckett’s).

Another difference was that Carly was just _better_ at it than Sam. Carly was better at a lot of things, and the Carly she saw right now was the one who had pushed Sam to do homework, kept Sam attentive during _iCarly_ meetings, and who had repeatedly and nonchalantly handled the aftermath of Spencer’s disasters under the guise of art.

So Sam indulged Carly, and they talked out what kinds of tasks Sam needed to stay on top of on a daily basis to try to keep things clean. Sam knew she was capable, she was just so _tired_ after a work shift that she only ever wanted to eat and watch TV (which, okay, was her default mode). It reminded her of the time she worked for Peezy B and came home to find that Cat had brought in another girl to help with babysitting and household tasks. It had made Sam second-guess what she even brought to their partnership, the way she was right now, and she’d stepped up for a week or so, trying to anticipate what Cat would need and doing it first. But she eased up when she tried to make Cat tea, and Cat told her she’d left the bag in too long and the tea had gotten bitter. After that, Cat had assured her that she didn’t need Sam to go above and beyond, she just needed her help sometimes, and they’d fallen back into their old habits.

Old habits that now Sam was really suspecting hadn’t been ideal. All she knew was, when Cat came back, she wanted to make sure it was to a home that didn’t stress her out.

“You should ask for help with some of this stuff if you need it,” Carly advised after emailing the list she’d made to Sam. “Because a lot of this is going to feel overwhelming at first.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam muttered, “I’ll do that.”

“Okay so,” Carly started, “Other than the general _mess_ , what’s been the hardest task for you to keep up with?”

Sam thought about it. She needed to do dishes so she could have something to eat with, so she’d done okay with that, though procrastinating on emptying the dishwasher had led to a sink full of dishes by the middle of the week. The trash can being full was a pretty easy cue that it had to go out. She had it, “Laundry,” she replied, “Because I have to use the apartment’s laundry room, and last time I forgot I had something in the wash and by the time I went back for it, all my stuff was on the floor.”

“Then maybe find someone else who can help you with that,” Carly suggested.

“I mean, Nona would, but then I’d have to bring it to her.” Nona had come back from Arizona a few days earlier, after it had become clear that Cat was willingly staying at the hospital for the next few weeks. There just wasn’t a lot Nona could do for her beyond visiting, though she was prepared to fly back out if anything changed. And though Sam had a greater appreciation for Nona than she had before, she also knew Nona was handling the bulk of the logistics of Cat’s situation. As weird as it was for her to consider it, she didn’t need to add to the old woman’s problems.

“Well, sure, that’s an option,” Carly replied, “But I was also thinking, like, maybe you could hire a laundry service?”

“That’s a thing?” Sam asked. Like, she knew it was a service that existed but it seemed like something exclusive to the rich. “For regular people?”

“It is,” Carly laughed, “Money’s a powerful motivator. And the cost might be worth the fact that it will stress you out a lot less.”

It was a good suggestion. “I’ll think about it.” She was thinking about what Carly had just said about money as a motivator, and how Sam herself always needed the right motivation to do things. “I guess money is motivating me right now. I still need to get a bank account.” She was really just talking to herself, reminding herself of the other list she’d created for herself, that had more long-term goals on it for figuring out how to handle these weeks without Cat.

Carly tilted her head to the side, “Did you close out your account?”

“I never even _made_ an account.”

“I meant the Freddie money account.”

“ _What_ Freddie money account?”

Carly’s eyebrows ticked upward, an indication of her disbelief. “The one he emails us about every month?”

“Oh, I don’t read his emails,” Sam replied easily, “It’s all nerd-speak.”

“Yeah, it’s _nerd-speak_ about the _iCarly_ royalties. We still get paid from website hits. It’s not that much per click, but after web hosting costs are covered, it gets split between the three of us into our bank accounts.” She gazed at Sam in concern. “Wait, you really didn’t know about this? I figured you’d spent it, or--”

“No, I had no idea,” Sam groaned, already searching her email account for the last thing Freddie sent her.

“Well...then you have money,” Carly stated.

“Like how much money?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. Ask Freddie. Or get him to send you the log-in information or something.” Sam reached for her phone, and Carly said incredulously, “You’re texting him _now_? Isn’t it the middle of the night?”

“Yeah, but what could he possibly be doing that’s important?”

“Maybe sleeping?” Carly suggested.

“Whatever. Then he won’t answer.” Sam set her phone aside, not expecting an immediate response. “Enough about me,” she said finally, though really, she was grateful for the chance to talk about everything with Carly. Talking to coworkers and customers all day meant she at least wasn’t going stir-crazy alone in the house, but they were annoying. At least Carly was someone she actually liked. “What’s going on with you?”

She let Carly tell her the latest story of _Carly Versus Tourists_ , including Carly throwing in several Italian phrases she’d used to mildly insult people. Sam smiled, leaning back on the couch and letting her best friend’s voice lull her into a sense of tranquility.

But when she opened her eyes back up, Carly was reading something aloud on her phone, and Sam had no idea what was going on, “Uh, what?”

Carly grinned slyly and lowered her phone, “You fell asleep there for a little bit. Figured I’d keep talking since it seemed to help.”

“Sorry,” Sam yawned, “I was enjoying your story, it’s just...”

“I know,” Carly said, fondness in her voice, “Go to bed, Sam.”

“Okay,” Sam said, reluctant to disconnect from her friend who understood her so well. “I’ll text you later.”

“I’ll be over here in the future,” she grinned. “Good night.”

“Night.”

-

It was the Thursday of her second week in the hospital, just past the halfway point. She’d adjusted to the routine of her days, the predictable meals, the boring daytime television in the community room, her group therapy sessions where no one really said much, and her individual therapy sessions with Dr. Greene where she talked as much as she wanted. There were also nearly daily video calls with Sam during visitor’s hours (they were barely long enough to say much more than hi to each other, but she did know Sam had gotten a job at the PearStore) and, as of the Tuesday of her first week there, she’d been getting a letter in the mail every single day. The letters were from Sam and were usually just something like, “Where do spaghetti and sauce go to dance? The meat ball.” And on the back would be a picture she’d drawn of dancing pasta or Dr. Duckley’s birthday party.

Cat had begun to hang the drawings on the wall along her bed, happy to have something of Sam there in the room with her. The images made her miss being home, but they also reminded her that someone was waiting for her when she returned.

She was more than halfway there, she knew. After the first week, once Dr. Greene felt she’d tapered off her previous medication enough to be observed unmedicated, then she’d started Cat on anti-anxiety medication. It was too early to really tell what the new meds were doing for her, sometimes she was convinced she felt even more anxious than usual, but Dr. Greene explained that wasn’t an uncommon reaction in the early stages. Cat supposed that was why they wanted her to stay in the hospital for as long as they did.

It was around the time when Julie usually brought her PearPad in for the allotted internet time Cat was allowed each day, but today she wasn’t carrying anything with her.

Instead, she said, “You have a visitor.”

“But there’s no one here to visit me,” Cat said, still sliding off the bed and following Julie down the hall. Nona had gone back to LA after Cat’s first weekend, her family was all still up in Idaho, and Sam couldn’t enter the state. She supposed it was possible that maybe Jade and Tori could have come to see her, but it seemed unlikely. No one else knew where she was.

Since no one had been to see her since her hold had been released, Cat had only ever been in the visitor's room when it had been empty of other patients and their visitors. But now there were other people at the small tables, some faces she knew from her time in the community room and at meals. At one of the tables there was one person sitting alone, one with a familiar face framed with blonde hair. Cat's body surged with an electricity that had been absent for weeks.

"Sam!" she exclaimed, then calmed herself after a glance from one of the orderlies. She forced herself not to run, but it was difficult not to want to beeline for the one person she'd been longing to see. As she approached the table, though, she noticed something was...off. Cat blinked a few times, looked over at the clock and noted the time, then closed her eyes for three seconds before looking at it, again. The time stayed the same. Okay, so she probably wasn't dreaming.

"Hey, Cat," came Sam's voice, from somewhere, but not from the mouth of the person in front of her. Okay, what the heck was going on? "Down here."

Cat looked down at the table to see a PearPhone with Sam on the screen. She grabbed it. "How are you doing this?"

"You remember my sister, Melanie?"

That's right. Sam's twin. Cat released a sigh. "I do now." She offered an easy smile to Melanie. "Hi."

Melanie returned the smile and waved a little as she said, "Hello," in a voice that was too high and polished to be Sam’s.

"Okay, Mel, remember what we talked about?"

"Yep."

"Good. Go."

Cat waited for whatever was about to happen and, a moment later, Melanie was wrapping her up in a hug. It wasn't the same, but there was something familiar about the height and the way they fit together. She let her arms squeeze back a hug, wishing Sam could feel it. Usually, when she hugged Sam, there was a chuckle in her ear or maybe a bit of playful twisting away before Sam grabbed back and gave her one really good bear hug before dropping her arms and saying, "gotta ration 'em out so they stay special."

"You kinda smell like Sam," Cat decided, picking up on what was maybe a fried chicken scent on Melanie's clothes.

"I made her rub fried chicken on her shirt," Sam explained.

"Yeah, knowing full well that I'm a vegetarian," said Melanie.

"Shhh, this is a silent job. Make sure you get that one last squeeze in," directed Sam.

There it was, not as tightly as Sam would have and not with the same little poke in Cat's ticklish side that sometimes seemed to happen, but it was a strong embrace that Cat was sad to finally let end.

She looked at Sam framed up on the PearPhone. "This was my favorite surprise."

"I really wish I could be there with you," said Sam.

"I'll be home soon," promised Cat.

Someone spoke to Sam off screen and then, "Hey, my break's over so I have to go. But...we'll talk tomorrow?"

Cat nodded. "I miss you."

"Miss you, too."

The call ended and she handed the phone back to Melanie. "Thank you for doing this. It's probably really weird for you."

Melanie shrugged. "My sister's asked me for some bizarre favors, but this one makes some real sense." She evaluated Cat for a moment. "I think you two might actually be really good for each other."

Cat clasped her hands in front of her and nodded. "I like to think so."

-

Cat was coming home in three days.

While, at first, it had felt like three weeks would be an eternity (marked in the middle by the arranged visit with Melanie to issue a hug to her friend, about which her sister later said, “I’ve kissed her, I’ve hugged her, but I’m _not_ sleeping with her _”)_ , the day of Cat’s return was rapidly approaching and Sam wasn’t even sure if she was ready.

In the time Cat had been in Arizona, Sam had: gotten a regular job, loaded up her PearCal with a schedule of things that needed to happen (thanks, Carly), received her login information to the bank account she didn't know she had (thanks, Freddie), hired a girl in the apartment complex named Kiala to handle the laundry (she was only twelve but came on the recommendation from Dice and, from what Sam could tell, seemed to be running and entire fluff and fold business that made good money), and managed to keep herself fed on the groceries she ordered from the Cart-to-Door app. It felt like she'd done so much but when she looked at the apartment, all she saw was more work to do.

Going to work had been fine. It was like school, she knew she needed to go and she just powered through it, fueling the day with coffee, soda, and snacks. The calendar had helped her keep track of when to go to buy food and when to arrange the laundry with Kiala. Her bank account was something she was still trying to figure out, though she'd gotten Freddie to help link up her direct deposit from her new job and set up auto-pay on all the household bills. Laundry was getting done, but Sam hadn't actually put any of it away, leaving it on the chair next to the couch and the various flat surfaces in the bedroom. At least most of the groceries had been put away in the fridge or eaten upon arrival, but there were plenty of things still stacked on the kitchen island.

She hated that everything was so disorganized (despite what people thought about her, she actually did prefer when things were clean and in their proper place), but the idea of cleaning up became overwhelming when she tried to figure out where to start. Carly had been helping out the best she could from six thousand miles away, but Sam knew she couldn't always just rely on her for help.

So, instead, she called her other friends. Really, she just called Jade, but with Jade came Tori, and it was probably a good idea to have extra hands to accomplish what she needed done.

" _Yikes_ ," said Jade, as soon as the door to the apartment opened enough for her to see inside.

She had a carrier of coffees from Jet Brew and she passed one to Sam who nodded. "Yeah."

"This is worse than my sister's room," commented Tori, who followed Jade in and just examined the space around her.

" _Nothing_ is worse than your sister's _anything_ ," argued Jade.

Tori squared up her shoulders, looking ready to take on whatever task she was issued. "What do you need us to do?"

"So Cat comes home on Saturday and I've really been trying to keep up with this stuff, but I don't even know where to start. Like, I vacuumed and washed some dishes, at least. But the rest is..." She looked around and sighed. When she'd lived at home with her mom, things had been similarly clean but dirty because while her mom didn't throw stuff away, she'd go on vacuuming binges at three in the morning. Basically, she hated that her current living situation looked anything like life with her mother and she wanted to change that. "Carly's been helping me organize, in theory, but when it's just me, I kind of get overloaded before I even start and then I give up," Sam admitted.

"Uh, Tori, maybe you can start putting the food stuff away?" Jade suggested. " And I might regret this, but let's look at the bedroom."

Sam sighed and led Jade to the back of the apartment while Tori began to store things in the kitchen cabinets. Her own bed was still stripped of its sheets and currently held up a pile of dirty laundry. The trash can was overflowing with soda bottles to the point where a dozen were just on the floor around it. In the small bathroom, the counter was covered in products, some that Sam didn't even use but didn't know where to put them.

"God, this is actually really embarrassing," Sam said.

"Where do you even sleep?" asked Jade.

"Cat's bed or the couch."

Jade turned to her, offering a look that was stern but somehow also compassionate (which was a rarity for Jade and Sam knew that meant things were...dire). "After we help you, I need you to promise you're not going to call me in two days because it went right back to this."

Okay, that was fair. Sam knew it looked like she was some kind of animal who couldn't take care of herself, but she did know how to manage things as long as she had a starting point. "Yeah. I know. It's...I don't know how to explain it, but it's like I can keep up with stuff if it's already organized and clean, but if it starts to slip, then it just landslides into..." she gestured to the room.

"Disaster," Jade finished. It was an observation, not a judgement. "I'm assuming the laundry's out there because your closet looks like a bomb went off in it."

"Yeah, and that's even without Cat letting me blow the safe open with dynamite." Sam rapped her knuckles on the closed door of the heavy duty safe.

"Why is that even in here?"

"Not sure but there's a cool room back there, wanna see?" Sam began punching in the code, but Jade stopped her.

"We're _cleaning_ ," she commanded.

"Right." Sam eyed the closet where there was a row of empty hangers and several shirts on the floor.

"Hang up all that stuff, if it's clean, then we'll bring in the other laundry and put it away. After that, we'll deal with the trash and the dirty clothes. Do you have clean sheets for your bed?"

"Yeah, somewhere."

"So, we'll find those and make your bed. Then, after that, we'll break for lunch and then you can show me what's in that creepy safe room because now I'm obsessed with it."

It made sense that Jade was about to start film school, because if this was how she handled a set, she must be an awesome director. Also, it helped to have a friend that was into weird chiz who was excited about secret safes built into closets. "Deal."

-

It was finally time to return to LA. Cat had barely finished her breakfast, she was so excited to be going home. The night before, she'd already packed up her few belongings and the things she'd accumulated during the weeks the tiny room had been her home. All of the pictures Sam had drawn (nineteen of them) were tucked away in the folder she'd requested from Julie, so she could keep them safe on the flight home. That, along with her PearPad, Mr. Purple, the journal she'd been keeping, and a short list of SplashFace usernames and email addresses she'd collected from a few people she'd bonded with during group therapy and community time were all packed into the backpack Nona had brought to her the day before. She'd also provided Cat with a fresh change of her actual clothes (no more pale blue scrubs and slippers) to dress in for the trip back to California.

When she'd dressed that morning, Cat already felt more like herself, the pink tones in the fabric doing different things with her complexion than the flat blue had. She wasn't allowed any make-up while still in the hospital, so she just applied her strawberry chapstick and that was that. But then there was the issue of her hair. The combo shampoo-conditioner-body wash hadn't done her any favors, stripping most of the bright red coloring from it but leaving just enough to ensure that her roots were obviously showing. Her natural color was also reddish, but far more natural and auburn than her preferred red velvet cupcake look. Also, her hair just looked...tired. Which made sense, because that was how she felt.

She was so happy to be going home, to know she'd be seeing Sam in a matter of hours, to get back to her stuffed animals and her apartment with all the furniture from her favorite show of all time. But her medication was still building in her system, meaning she wasn't feeling the full impact of it just yet. Instead, it mostly just depleted her energy and made her need a nap in the afternoons.

Once she was dressed and ready to go, Julie and Dr. Greene appeared in her doorway.

Again, Dr. Greene sat in the desk chair, notes in front of her. "How are you feeling today, Cat?"

"Excited to be going home."

Dr. Greene smiled. "That's good to hear." She handed Cat a packet of paperwork. "We've already gone over everything that's in here, but it's information about the medication and what to expect from it over the next several weeks. I've also included a list of recommended psychiatrists and psychologists in your area, to give you a starting point to work from. It can sometimes take a few tries to find a good match, especially when it comes to therapy, and an area like Los Angeles can certainly be overwhelming when you're looking for a new therapist."

Cat nodded. She'd already seen at least a half dozen in her life and she couldn't really imagine any one of them being the kind of person she wanted to regularly visit. "Thank you."

"It's important that you took the time to stay here and receive treatment. It was a big step to take. Not everyone is as receptive as you've been when they're brought in on a 5150." Dr. Greene offered another smile. "So be proud of your progress and please continue to take good care of yourself, okay?"

"Okay," Cat returned the smile. Even though she was happy to leave the small, boring room and the bland food and the lukewarm showers, she'd kind of miss Dr. Greene.

Finally, it was time to go. Cat slipped the backpack over her shoulders and walked the corridor with Julie until she was led to the exit doors. Silently, she said goodbye to the hospital, grateful for the chance to recover, but glad to be leaving.

Nona greeted her with a warm hug, then they climbed into the WeDriveU car for the ride to the airport. Mostly, their conversation was about her stay. They'd talked a little on the PearPad each week, but there hadn't been time to get into details about how Cat had made a friend over a puzzle of the Disney princesses that was missing the piece that had Aurora's face on it, or the incident where a patient she didn't know tried to start a food fight but no one else joined in, or how she'd befriended an older woman named Charlene by singing songs from Sondheim musicals together.

The airport felt terribly chaotic, maybe because it was the first place she'd been with so many people moving around her in nearly a month. But she clutched Mr. Purple as they moved through the terminal to their gate, eventually boarding the small commuter plane for their short flight home. Cat usually enjoyed flying but her new medicine still had her feeling anxious. Fortunately, Nona had bought her a pair of PearBuds at the airport gift shop and she plugged them into her PearPad so she could tune out the hum and rumble of the airplane and just focus on music (it had been a month since she'd just been able to listen to something like this). The flight was really only long enough for the attendants to serve a beverage (they didn't have Blue Dog, so Wahoo Punch would have to do) and collect the trash before the plane touched down at Burbank airport.

It was a tiny commuter airport, so there wasn't far to go when they'd deplaned and walked out of the gate before they were past the security checkpoint and about to exit the building. Next to the automatic doors was a sign that said pick-up/drop-off in yellow zones only.

And right under the sign was Sam.

Cat hadn't been expecting to see her here (she'd expected to meet her at home), so the jolt she felt at the sight of her best friend made her stomach flip and forced a squeal from her lips. "Sam!" she exclaimed, pushing herself into a sprint until she was flinging herself at the grinning woman in the motorcycle jacket.

"Hey," was all Sam said as Cat's arms slid under the open jacket and wrapped around her body, holding on tightly.

Here she was, back in California, holding onto Sam (who was, in fact, very real), breathing in the scent of the conditioned leather that was pressed against her face as her head settled on Sam's shoulder. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Sam said, the words not only heard but felt as she mumbled them into Cat's hair.

Oh god, her hair. She probably looked terrible. Cat pulled back and ran her fingers through her hair, feeling like it was wild and out of control. She hadn't even had any clips or anything to style it the way she normally did.

But the content expression on Sam's face as she looked at Cat suggested that maybe it didn't really matter.

-

It really wasn’t strictly _necessary_ for Sam to show up at the airport, but it hadn’t even been a question in her mind. Cat was coming home and she didn’t want to wait any longer than required in order to see her and touch her.

She saw Cat before Cat noticed her, but only barely, and watched the shift in her friend’s demeanor as she spotted Sam, let out an excited squeak and shouted her name, and ran toward her, launching herself into Sam’s waiting arms. She felt slender arms slip under her jacket and wrap around her, holding tight, felt Cat’s face press into her neck and shoulder in the natural fit they always had together with all the times Cat had hugged her. She bent her head toward Cat’s, mouth pressed against her hair, breathing her in, at once smelling utterly familiar and yet also _not_.

“I missed you,” Cat whispered, squeezing tighter.

“I missed you, too,” Sam said into her hair.

At that, Cat abruptly pulled back, hands at her hair. It definitely looked different, in a way that made it obvious that Cat’s typical upkeep of her hair had been impossible; it was lank and flat, the color faded and her roots showing. But Sam didn’t care. Cat was _home_.

Nona had almost reached them by now. “I have an important question,” Sam directed at Cat.

Cat nodded, “Okay, what?”

“Do you want to be surprised, or don’t you? I guess either way it won’t be a surprise, but…”

“I can always pretend,” Cat chuckled. “Why, what’s the surprise?”

“Just some of our friends, they wanted to welcome you home. But only if you’re up for it, we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I’d love to see everybody,” Cat’s face split into a wide smile.

Nona was hovering now, giving Sam a grateful smile. She could see how much this airport greeting had meant to Cat. “Are you ready, Cat?” she asked.

“I’ll see you at home,” Sam reached for Cat’s hand to give her a reassuring squeeze.

“Wait,” Cat’s hand squeezed back, not letting go. “I want to ride back with you.”

Sam glanced at Nona, who shrugged and nodded, and then she smiled at Cat. “Okay, good, because I brought your helmet.”

Cat’s face lit up again into another bright smile. Sam had missed her smiles.

Cat didn’t let go of her hand as Sam led her out of the airport to the parking lot where she’d left her motorcycle. Nona had parked nearby in the same lot the previous afternoon, and followed behind them, waving as she passed them to go to her car. Sam handed Cat her helmet and slipped her phone out of her pocket to text Dice that it was okay for friends to be in the apartment when they came back, and then Sam was putting on her own helmet and straddling her bike, Cat settling in behind her, hands sliding around her waist and holding on. Sam placed a hand over Cat’s, reassuring herself more than anything ( _Cat was really home_ ) and then kicked her motorcycle to life and began backing out of her space.

The ride home was a bit long, crossing through a lot of the San Fernando Valley toward their beachside neighborhood. They started down Ventura Boulevard, a rather fitting reintroduction to Cat’s home, with all its billboards, and palm trees, stretches of boarded up businesses covered in graffiti tags and old institutions that had stood the test of time (including plenty of restaurants Sam wanted to try someday; like Casa Vega. The aroma wafting from it when they stopped at a nearby light was incredible. Sam wondered if Tori’s family owned it; she didn’t know much about Jade’s girlfriend yet, beyond her vague resemblance to Shelby Marx and that she’d once dated Carly’s boyfriend).

Through the surface streets they rode, Sam feeling the way Cat pressed against her, holding on tightly, giggling and squealing with every change in velocity. It wasn’t that easy to talk on a motorcycle, which was maybe good, too. She suspected that Cat could use a break from that, from Nona’s long-winded stories and invasive questions. She was glad Cat chose to ride with her, she was glad for the physical connection between them, the reassurance to both of them that they were reunited.

Further into their journey, they hopped on the freeway, then got off at the coast, driving along streets where they could see the ocean gleaming under afternoon sunlight. Sam could smell the hot sand, the sea breeze, she could almost hear Cat’s inhale and contented sigh, could feel the way Cat relaxed against her. Almost home.

Sam pulled in behind their apartment and shut off the engine, walking her motorcycle to its proper spot on the patio. Cat followed along beside her. “Is everyone inside?” she asked, slipping off her backpack.

She was pretty sure she’d just seen Dice ducking down next to the coat closet through the sliding glass door. “Should be. Except we probably beat Nona here,” Sam replied, taking Cat’s backpack for her. “You ready?”

Cat nodded eagerly, and Sam unlocked the back door and held it open for Cat to go in.

“Welcome home, Cat,” said Sam, the cue for everyone else.

And in a moment, Tori, Jade and Dice were popping out from their hiding places to holler, “Welcome home!”

And a moment after that, Goomer did the same thing. “Welcome home!” he drawled.

Cat slapped her hand to her chest and reached for Sam, gasping and jerking back. And then a moment later, she grinned, “Did I look surprised?” she asked everyone.

“You did,” Tori chuckled. “Cat, we’re so glad you’re home.”

“We brought presents!” Goomer declared, lifting a sack of Bibble out of a canvas shopping bag he was carrying, “Look, I brought you--mmph.”

Immediately, Jade covered his mouth and grabbed the bag of Bibble, tucking it into her leather jacket. Sam steered Cat to face the other way, “Yeah, Tori brought you something, right Tori?” she tried, hoping Tori would pull through.

Tori looked past them to where whatever she brought Cat probably was, but then she grinned, “I brought you a hug!” she declared, lifting her arms and wiggling her hips. Sam watched as Jade slipped out the front door with the Bibble.

“Yay! I love hugs!” Cat declared, launching herself at Tori in an enthusiastic greeting.

“I didn’t bring you a present,” Goomer said forlornly. Sam glared at him. She’d have to deal with him later.

“Sure you did!” Dice forced enthusiasm, “We all brought hugs!”

“Yay!” Cat said again. Once she’d finished hugging Goomer and Dice and then had flung herself at Sam for another hug, Jade was back, and was met with Cat almost knocking her into the front door with the force of her hug. But then, Cat pulled back abruptly, “Oh!” she said, hands going to her hair. “I’ll be right back.” And she scampered down the hall toward the bedroom.

Sam turned on Goomer, “What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed.

“I was just trying to get her something she liked!” he defended himself.

“You can’t--she can’t,” Sam stopped talking, because Cat was already coming back into the living room.

“I’ll explain later,” Dice murmured to Goomer.

“Okay, I feel better,” Cat declared. She’d put on her Hat-hat, the one that literally said “Hat” on it. The current state of her hair was clearly something she was sensitive about.

They sat on the couch and let Cat open her presents, which were all Los Angeles or California themed (Tori seemed particularly interested in the Venice Beach shirt that Dice had bought for Cat). Some of this made sense, because Sam was pretty sure everyone had shopped for Cat with the intention of sending her gifts when she was in the mental hospital, gifts to remind her of home. But the rules for what was allowed were so complex, that they’d decided not to try, so as not to just saddle Cat with gifts she’d have to take right home after being discharged.

But Cat seemed delighted with everything she’d been given. And in the middle of it, Nona finally showed up, which meant the kitchen was soon full of the aroma of delicious cooking. Sam’s mouth was already watering.

No one really pressed Cat to talk about anything, and let her lead the conversation. She wanted to know some of the things she’d missed while she was gone, which everyone did their best to fill her in on. Sam was worried that it would make her sad or disappointed to hear about all of what had happened while she was away, but Cat seemed fine, listening eagerly, and even offering minor details about what her days had looked like in the mental hospital. It sounded pretty similar to Sam’s brief stint at Troubled Waters, though she was certain she’d actually be insane after nearly a month of it.

Cat seemed all right, though. Maybe a little tired, with the way she sometimes leaned against Sam’s shoulder on the couch, but all right. Sam figured she’d still better check. “You all right?” she nudged Cat gently.

Cat smiled. She looked happy, but her eyes were definitely tired. “I’m really good,” she assured Sam.

Nona had food ready for an early dinner, which everyone ate together, with some old sitcom Cat chose playing on the TV. And maybe everyone else was sensing that Cat was tired, too, or maybe it was just time for the party to wrap up, but with another round of hugs, the welcome home party began to disperse.

-

Cat was so happy to be back, but it was definitely an adjustment. Spending time with her friends and Nona certainly helped her feel comfortable being back at home, though missing her afternoon nap meant that she was a little sleepy, pushing on because she didn’t want to miss interacting with the people she loved.

After dinner, though, Sam unexpectedly took her empty plate for her, without being asked, and coaxed the group to “Bring your dishes into the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher.” Cat watched, brow furrowed, as her guests cleaned up after themselves, while Sam helped Nona cover all the leftovers and put them in the fridge.

It was surreal enough that Cat checked her PearPhone, making sure that time stayed consistent, because it felt like a dream.

Actually, a _lot_ about being home felt dream-like. Some of it in a really good way, like how it felt to get hugs, to lean against Sam on the sofa. But other parts felt a bit...off, and these were the parts that made Cat especially worry that maybe she’d lost her mind and was about to wake up back in the hospital.

This new normal of second-guessing her perception of reality was probably the scariest thing, aside from the brief psychotic episode itself.

But things about her home felt _wrong_. It was _clean_ , in a way that Cat wasn’t anticipating. She knew Sam would probably make an effort to clean up before Cat got home; Cat hadn’t expected to come home to a total mess, though that would have been less surprising than the level of pristine at which the apartment currently existed. She’d expected to discover potato chip crumbs brushed under the throw pillows on the couch, mess shoved into the workspace/crafting nook just to be out of the way, but even Sam’s bed looked like it had clean sheets on it (and was _made_ , too).

Little things like that made her feel like she wasn’t at home at all.

She hugged her friends goodbye, and Sam finally got Nona out the door before she could launch into some long story. Cat was grateful for that.

After closing the front door, Sam turned to her, eyes scanning her, assessing. “You good?” she asked.

Cat nodded, “I’m good.” She stood up from the couch and stretched, trying to wake back up her body. It was already too late for a nap.

“What do you want to do now?” Sam asked her.

“Honestly?” Cat smiled, “I really, really want to shower in my own bathroom.”

Sam chuckled, “Yeah, I get that.”

Cat reached for her, wanting to connect again, because being back with _Sam_ was the thing she had been looking forward to the most, the thing she had been clinging onto mentally. And Sam had stayed and waited for her, had met her at the airport, was being attentive to her. She wrapped her arms around Sam, hearing Sam chuckle and squeeze back. “Thanks for throwing me a party,” Cat murmured, “It’s good to be home.”

Sam pulled tighter, a longer, firmer hug than she usually gave, but then the pressure fell away, and she poked Cat’s side, making her giggle. “I’m really glad you’re back. We all are,” Sam said as she pulled away.

There was a moment where Cat felt like she should say more, to express how grateful she was Sam still wanted to live with her, maybe, or to even talk about how _weird_ it was to come home to such a clean apartment, but instead, Cat just smiled at Sam and then headed to the bedroom to take a shower.

And in the bathroom, Cat got to take her first good, long look at herself in an actual mirror in almost a month.

She was still wearing her Hat-hat, which she took off now, wincing at her roots, which were starker in the glass mirror with the bright bathroom light, in spite of how faded her color was in general. She picked up her PearPhone to text her stylist right away, wanting to get back to her signature red velvet as soon as possible, knowing she would feel better once she was able to recognize herself in the mirror again. Her skin actually didn’t look too bad, no major blemishes or breakouts, though without makeup she looked kind of oily and she had prominent bags under her eyes. She made faces at herself in the mirror for a bit, being silly in ways she didn’t think was appropriate in the bathroom at Phoenix General Hospital, but before long, she was stripping and turning on the water for the shower.

It was actually hot, and Cat groaned in relief as she stepped under the spray. She let herself take a good, long whiff of her shampoo--her _real_ shampoo, that made her hair look full and vibrant instead of lifeless and sad. She washed and conditioned her hair, soaped up with the (brand new, by the look of it) bar of soap, and then just stood too long under the spray, enjoying the privacy and heat and fragrance of her _own shower at home_. Her hands were very pruney when she finally got out.

When she came out to the living room in her candy robe, feeling cleaner than she had in a long time, she found Sam standing at the kitchen island, using a serving spoon to scoop leftover lasagna right out of the pan and into her mouth. She caught Cat’s eye and lowered the too-large spoon, looking almost guilty. “Hey, how was your shower?” she asked.

“Delightful,” Cat replied, eyes flicking between the lasagna and Sam. “Well, don’t stop on my account,” she waved her hand.

Sam smiled, but it was almost a grimace, and she dropped the serving spoon back into the tray and covered it. “Nah, I’m done,” she decided.

Cat frowned, “That doesn’t sound like the Sam Puckle I know.”

Sam didn’t even correct her. “Don’t worry, kid. I’m still me. I’m just...you know. Trying not to leave a bunch of messes for you to clean up.”

Cat gazed around at the too-clean apartment once again. “Is that why it’s so clean in here? You did this?”

“Well,” Sam chuckled, but it sounded forced, “I had Jade and Tori help me, actually. But...yeah, I’ve been really trying to keep things clean. I don’t want to stress you out.”

“It kind of stresses me out that it’s so tidy,” Cat smiled to soften her words, “I appreciate it, though.” That part was true, because she could tell it meant Sam was making an effort to keep Cat comfortable. Cat had expected things to be normal when she came home, but maybe it wasn’t time for that, yet. Maybe she deserved this break that Sam was offering her while she figured out what life on the other side of the Phoenix General Hospital psychiatric ward with new medication would be like.

“It’s no big deal,” Sam shrugged, minimizing her obvious efforts. Cat was too tired to even call her on it. “What do you want to do? You look beat as hell,” Sam observed.

“I am,” Cat sagged a little, “I haven’t been sleeping that well at night on this new...new medication, and I’ve been taking afternoon naps. Not today, though.” She could see Sam scrutinizing her, but there was no judgment in her eyes, she was merely listening. “Right now…” Cat admitted, “I just want to put on my candy jammies and get in bed with my stuffed animals and watch TV.”

Sam cracked a smile, “I think that’d do you good.”

“Will you come sit with me?” Cat asked, because really, she didn’t want to be alone in the bedroom. She wanted, _needed_ , the tactile reminder that she was back home with Sam. She needed to believe that they could go back to how things were.

-

Even though it was just barely seven o'clock, Sam changed into her pajamas and joined Cat on her bed. She wondered if Cat could tell she’d slept there at least half the nights she’d been away.

"What'd you want to watch?" she asked, thumbing the remote as she browsed the on-screen guide.

"Did you record _Slightly Less Gorgeous_?"

"You bet I did." Well, the DVR had been programmed to auto-record any new episodes, but Sam was willing to take credit for it.

Cat squealed a small, "Yay," before settling under the covers and cuddling up to Sam. "We were always supposed to be back in our rooms before any of the good shows came on."

"Yeah, they like to keep things low-key, in my experience." Sam had mentioned her time at Troubled Waters, in passing. But she hadn't really ever gone into detail about why she'd checked herself in. She wondered if Cat would ask about it.

Cat didn't.

She simply rested up against Sam and commented on the show until, during the second episode, the comments stopped and her breathing evened out. Sam stayed where she was through the rest of the episode, then switched channels to catch an update about the latest MMA bouts. Finally, she carefully eased up off the bed and tucked Cat's comforter around her. It was August, but their air conditioner worked pretty damn well and she knew Cat liked to be nice and cozy under her covers when she slept.

Even though Sam had been keeping a more "regular" sleeping schedule since she'd started at the PearStore, she still was a couple hours away from her usual bedtime (hilarious, Sam Puckett with a bedtime), so she quietly shut the door to the bedroom as she shuffled into the front of the apartment. At some point during or after the party, Cat had unpacked the contents of her backpack, taking Mr. Purple to bed with her and leaving a thick manila envelope on the workspace desk across from the patio doors.

The envelope wasn't sealed and next to it was a page she assumed had been previously stuffed inside, because she'd never seen it before. It was a list of doctors in Los Angeles, presumably something to help Cat maintain whatever she'd started during her stay in the hospital. She wondered what else was in the packet and carefully shook out a couple more of the papers that were inside. If she came across anything that seemed personal, she'd immediately put it back, but she wanted to know as much as she could to help Cat readjust. That was fair, right?

Part of Sam knew better, but the rest of her didn't care. If she could help without bothering Cat with a bunch of details, that seemed like a better idea. Or that's what she told herself.

Anyway, the rest of the paperwork was just a bunch of information about the medication Cat had been given and was apparently still adjusting to. Well, that wasn't anything new. So, no harm there. It did tell her that she was likely being treated for General Anxiety Disorder which made sense, given a lot of what she'd seen from Cat and how she reacted to things a lot of the time.

She wondered how this would affect Cat in comparison to what she'd been taking before. Already, Cat seemed more subdued, but that could easily be from the transition from the hospital to home. It was probably going to take a little time to really notice the results.

Pharmaceuticals tended to stress Sam out. Her mom had a habit of seeking out different pills, all in the name of "feeling better" and yet they always seemed to make things worse. When Sam was in middle school, she'd seen a therapist (one of several she'd see exactly once) who'd prescribed Adderall for her ADHD. Even though Sam didn't like the way it made her feel (especially the part where it suppressed her appetite), she was furious to find out her mother had claimed half of the bottle for herself. After that, Sam took the remaining medication to Carly and asked her to hold onto it for the occasions when Sam really needed it.

But just because Sam had a number of bad experiences with the stuff didn't mean Cat wouldn't benefit. She tried to have an open mind about it as she scanned the list of possible side-effects, but all of it sounded like it made things worse rather than better. After curbing her curiosity, she slid the papers back into the envelope and placed everything back where she found it.

Everything was so new and different even though things were also still very much the same.

She grabbed the lasagna pan back out of the fridge, which still had the serving spoon enclosed in the tray (hey, she was trying to avoid leaving dirty dishes behind). At least, in all of this, there were leftovers.

-

When Cat woke up, the bedroom was dimly lit by the bits and pieces of ambient glowing things around the room. Sam wasn't on the bed with her, but as she squinted through the low light of the space, she could see her friend splayed out across her own bed. Quietly, Cat tossed off her covers and gently padded over to Sam's bed. She had her arm wrapped around the now-empty lasagna pan and the serving spoon still clutched in the opposite hand.

Seeing this gave Cat a warm sense of welcoming, as if this were the first true sight of actually being home. Carefully, she collected the pan and the spoon, eliciting no more than a sleep-laden groan from Sam, who slightly shifted in her slumber. Cat carried the dishes to the kitchen, rinsed them, then loaded them into the dishwasher. The time on the microwave said it was just after midnight. Now that Cat was up, she wasn't sleepy. This had happened a lot during the last week, as her medication somehow made her feel fatigued while she was awake and restless when she wanted to sleep. It was supposed to even out and she hoped that time would come soon.

Meanwhile, she'd just have to figure out what to do when she couldn't sleep. Like right now.

She made her way to the desk where she'd left her packet from the hospital. The list of doctors was still on top and she pulled the rest of the paperwork out of the envelope, glanced at them, then set it all aside. What she wanted was still in her backpack, so she grabbed it to find what she was looking for. Rattling around in the bottom of the bag was the plastic bottle of her new pills, little white ovals instead of the pink round ones she used to take. She considered leaving the medication tucked away in her bag, but there was no reason to try and keep anything from Sam. She’d never deliberately hidden her meds from Sam in the past, but it felt like maybe a positive step to leave these out on her desk, where they were part of her life, instead of hidden away in the medicine cabinet. (Though, that was probably why they called it that, now that she was thinking about it.)

 **Valentine, Catarina  
**TABULAPRO 10mg  
30 tablets  
**Take 1 tablet by mouth daily**

There it was, plain as day (though it was still night), sitting right next to her unicorn jar of gel pens.

But back to what she was looking for, in the first place, which was the folder of drawings she’d brought home from the hospital. All the pictures Sam had drawn, nearly one for every day she was there.

Under the desk was a storage bin with some of her old school binders and she poked around until she located one with a unicorn on it, popping open the three rings and tossing the former contents back in the bin. Somewhere, she knew there were a bunch of plastic sheet protectors in one of the drawers of the desk, leftover from when she used to need them to protect her sheet music at Hollywood Arts. She searched for them, finding other forgotten items as she did, like a program from when she'd gone to see her friends in _The Narcoleptic Astronaut_ and her script from _Well Wishes_ , the play Jade had written a few years ago.

Finally, she found the sheet protectors and carefully slid each of the drawings from Sam into its own page before loading them into the unicorn binder. Dr. Duckley's birthday party. Octopus Charlie juggling seashells (although doing it underwater seemed a little like cheating). A red cat and a yellow dog sharing a pizza (these were new characters in her world of animals, but Cat recognized who they were supposed to be). Keeping these images safe felt important to her, they'd made her feel less lonely while she was in the hospital and she wanted a way to remember that.

"Cat?" came Sam's groggy voice from down the hall. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, softly. "Just couldn't sleep."

"You can watch TV or whatever in here, it won't bother me."

Cat laughed to herself. Sam could always sleep through just about anything, but there was something sweet about the offer. "Okay, I'll be back in soon." Instead of returning to bed, Sam ambled past her into the kitchen, the light from the fridge causing her to squint as she reached in and withdrew a takeout container from B.F. Wang's. "Sam, how old is that?" she asked. There usually weren't leftovers left over long enough for anything to go bad, but not having been home and having witnessed a couple of occasions where Sam had eaten expired food, it was always a good idea to check.

"Uh," Sam sleepily yanked open the silverware drawer, causing the contents to clatter as she groped around for a fork. "I picked this up after work on...Wednesday. No. Thursday. It's just noodles, anyway." With her fork and takeout in hand, she made her way back to where Cat sat at the desk, popping the container open. "See?"

Cat peered into the little cardboard box. It looked fine and didn’t smell bad. "Kay kay."

Sam shot her a tired smile in the light of the desk lamp. "You coming?" she asked, knocking her knee against Cat's leg.

"Yeah." Cat clicked the switch on the lamp and followed Sam to their room. It was nice to be home.

The next morning was Sunday, and Cat woke up a little later than she normally might. Though, what was normal anymore was still being discovered, she supposed, especially with the way she was tending to wake up in the night and struggling to fall back to sleep.

Sam wasn’t in her bed, which was a little surprising. She knew that Sam had mentioned on their video calls over the past few weeks that she’d had to start getting up earlier for work, but it was still a little jarring, seeing this change.

Cat wondered what else had changed since she’d been gone.

She got out of bed, noticing as she left the bedroom that she could smell...food. Curiously, she made her way down the hall to find Sam in the kitchen, apparently cooking.

Sam noticed her and smiled, “Hey, good morning,” she greeted.

“What is this? What’s happening?” Cat asked, gesturing to the kitchen area in general.

“It’s just breakfast,” Sam replied, “Bacon and eggs, you want some?”

Cat did, but the situation was strangely frustrating. “Sure,” she agreed anyway, going to the fridge to pour herself a glass of orange juice while Sam served food onto a couple of plates and carried them over to the dining nook. Cat noticed that, judging by the level of coffee in the carafe, that Sam had probably already had a cup or two.

Cat joined her in the nook, settling next to Sam. Breakfast was relatively simple--scrambled eggs, toast, bacon--but Sam had made it pretty well, nothing burned or undercooked. Sam didn’t cook that much in general (often she could barely even be bothered to heat up leftovers), and if she did, it was usually just for herself. Cat appreciated breakfast, but it seemed like every feeling she had about being home was complicated, somehow, this one included. And in ways that she couldn’t always put her finger on.

“How’d you sleep?” Sam asked between mouthfuls of eggs.

“Okay, I guess,” Cat replied, taking a bite of her toast. She realized she should be grateful for the fact that Sam made her breakfast, and belatedly tried to express that. “Thanks for cooking.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Sam replied easily, which made Cat even more unsure of what she was supposed to do and how she was supposed to react. Instead, she just ate.

After eating, Cat rinsed her plate and put it in the dishwasher, but Sam shooed her away from cleaning up any of the other breakfast dishes. Cat lingered uncertainly, wondering if Sam would really handle them or just end up leaving them in the sink for Cat to deal with later, but to her surprise, Sam started washing the pans after pouring herself another cup of coffee. Unsure of what else to do, Cat went back to the bedroom and took a shower. They had plans for later in the day, so she might as well get ready.

Her hair was already beginning to look better in terms of volume and just looking more healthy, but until she saw her stylist, she still had that auburn stripe of roots that she couldn’t take her eyes off of. It seemed like it might be another day for her Hat-hat. Otherwise, she dressed in a pink sleeveless dress, taking pleasure in the fact that she could wear her own clothes again.

She came back out to the kitchen to find Sam with her head in the fridge, a sight so familiar that it made Cat smile for what felt like the first time today. Sam glanced at her, closing the fridge. “Wait,” she said, “Didn’t I eat the leftover lasagna last night?”

“Yeah,” Cat replied.

“I thought so, but...I didn’t wake up with the pan.”

“I know, silly. I took the pan.”

“What? When?” Sam frowned, looking truly puzzled.

“In the night, when I woke up. I rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher.”

“I could’ve gotten it,” Sam protested.

“Sure, but I was awake, and you were sleeping with a glass baking dish under your arm, and I didn’t want you to roll around in the night, like you do, and knock the pan onto the floor because then it might shatter and you’d probably get right up to see what was wrong and then you’d step on all the broken glass and cut up your feet and you can’t ride a motorcycle to the hospital if your feet are bleeding,” Cat finished, taking a breath to calm herself from the scenario she’d just spun out.

Sam stared, “Okay...guess I didn’t think of that. I just didn’t mean to leave it as a mess for you.”

“I didn’t mind,” Cat insisted, “I want to do _something_ around here,” she continued, an edge of frustration creeping into her voice.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Sam said soothingly, “It’s only your first day home, let Mama take care of things while I’m not working.”

This seemed reasonable enough that Cat didn’t push.

Once Sam was showered and dressed, they got on her motorcycle, Cat letting her hands settle around Sam’s waist, letting the warmth of her body and the security of her assuredness and control on the motorcycle flow into Cat as she giggled along with the sensation of speeding through the open air. There was always something especially stimulating about this--the rush of adrenaline, the smell of exhaust and Sam’s leather jacket, the way she could hear Sam chuckle whenever turning a corner made Cat squeal with delight.

They didn’t have far to go, just down to the beach. There was the outdoor gym, where Dice was guiding Goomer through some strength training exercises. That’s where Sam was planning to hang out for a little while.

Because Cat was meeting someone else. A particular someone else with curly hair and glasses who was sitting on a bench facing away from the gym, holding two cups of shaved ice.

“Hi, Robbie,” Cat greeted, standing next to him.

“Cat!” He rocketed to his feet, looking as if he were about to hug her, but changed his mind as he glanced at the two desserts he was holding. “I’ve missed you, I’m so glad you’re home,” he said. When Cat merely nodded, he said, “Uh, blue raspberry or cherry?” and held out the two options.

“Cherry,” Cat decided, taking the red one. Robbie sat back down on the bench, and Cat joined him, scooping a little spoonful of flavored sugar water and ice into her mouth. “Don’t you want to sit so we can see the guys working out?” Cat wasn’t so much interested in them as much as she wanted to be able to keep an eye on Sam. It was reassuring, knowing she was nearby.

But Robbie shook his head. “I don’t want to be too distracted.” She could hear him crunching the ice in his mouth. “So, how was Arizona?” Robbie asked after a moment.

Cat hesitated, because Robbie hadn’t been informed about why she was _really_ there. Jade had told him that Cat was visiting family in Arizona, in a rural area that didn’t really have good cell service. She knew from hearing from her friends that Robbie had expressed disbelief at this, especially given she’d left suddenly, but eventually, he seemed to accept it. But he deserved the truth, and that was why she wanted to meet with him. “I wasn’t really visiting family,” Cat blurted, revealing this more abruptly than she’d intended.

Robbie tilted his head. “You know, I thought that sounded weird. I couldn’t remember you ever talking about Arizona before and I was sure that if you were leaving for a month in the summer, you would’ve said _something_.” He took another bite of his shaved ice. Cat could see that the inside of his mouth was already turning blue. She wondered if her mouth would be redder than her faded hair when she was done. “So then why were you there? Or were you even there at all?”

Cat nodded, “I was in Arizona. I went there to help my friend Dice with his hair modeling opportunity. You know, the kid who lives in my building?” Robbie nodded. “I wasn’t supposed to stay there for so long,” Cat said slowly, taking another bite of her shaved ice just to delay having to actually _say it_. “But something happened, and...I was in the hospital.” But she couldn’t even hide behind that, she knew, so she clarified immediately. “The mental hospital.”

Robbie was silent, wide-eyed. “Oh my god, Cat. Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m okay now,” Cat assured him, though she knew that even that was a work in progress, as every waking moment realizing that things _were not the same_ and _might never be the same_ was reminding her. “And I didn’t tell you because it was personal, and embarrassing, and I didn’t want you to try to come visit me,” she finished.

He was still staring. “I _would_ have,” he said, “You being alone out there…” he trailed off.

Cat shook her head, “I wouldn’t have wanted you to see me like that.” It was hard to explain, even to herself. She knew Robbie used to like her, like, _like_ her like her. And there was a point in time where she kind of liked him, too. They were past that now, she was almost sure, but a part of her liked knowing that Robbie once saw her as so special, maybe still, maybe always.

It was different from Sam. She was Cat’s roommate and her support, and Cat loved her. Cat didn’t mind Sam seeing her in that situation in part because she missed her so much, but also because the circumstances were different. Robbie had a crush, and those were flimsy, easily extinguished. Cat didn’t know how Sam felt about her, beyond the fact that she cared about her, but if Sam were ever going to love her back, she would have to know all of Cat. Even the scary stuff.

The silence stretched for a moment as they both ate their shaved ice. She could see questions in Robbie’s eyes, knew that he probably wanted a lot of the details Cat didn’t know if she wanted to share. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry that no one told you what was happening. I didn’t want them to, I didn’t want you to worry. But I’m back now.”

Robbie nodded, though whether it was in acknowledgement or understanding, Cat didn’t know. “I really am glad you’re back,” he said, “It’s been a weird summer without you.”

“I bet,” Cat smiled.

“So many times I wanted to talk to you,” Robbie continued, his tone almost musing, “About hanging out, about what classes you were taking for community college in the fall, about Freddie…” There had been a connection there, Cat knew, though she suspected it was a little one-sided. Poor Robbie. “It was so weird when I couldn’t.”

“Well, you can now,” Cat smiled. But Robbie had reminded her of something else. “And...we should talk about the community college thing.”

Robbie nodded, sitting forward eagerly. “Were you able to sign up for anything? Classes start in a couple of weeks, but they might not be full yet.”

Cat shook her head slowly, “I’m not...I’m not going to be taking classes this semester.” She was sad to even be saying it, because it was something she’d absolutely been looking forward to, but she also knew it was the right decision. Finding balance on her meds and starting therapy was her focus right now, and trying to start college on top of that would be too much for her to try to handle all at once.

“Oh,” Robbie said, sounding disappointed, but he was sitting up straighter, too, looking thoughtful.

“I know that we planned to do this together,” Cat said tentatively, “But with everything going on with me...I’m just not ready. I’m going to try for the spring, though.”

“I don’t want to be ahead of you when you start, though,” Robbie frowned.

“It’s okay,” Cat assured, “I’m sure we can still take some of the same classes.”

“Maybe but...if you’re not going, I’m not going, either,” Robbie said decisively.

“Robbie, no!” Cat protested, “You can’t...don’t _wait_ for me.” It was hard enough knowing she’d already messed up her own plans, and she didn’t want to mess up Robbie’s, too.

But Robbie was shaking his head, “No, seriously, Cat. I want to. And not just so we can do this together in the spring, but also for me. There’s this week-long comedy festival in San Francisco that I’ve always wanted to go to, but it’s in the middle of October, like, probably around when midterms or something would be. So if I’m in school, I probably can’t go. But if I wait a semester, I can, and then you and I can start together!”

He looked so hopeful and eager, but Cat couldn’t help but feel like this wasn’t a good idea. “Did you already sign up for classes?”

“Yeah, but it’s not too late to drop them and apply the payment to next semester. I only signed up for a couple because I was waiting for you, anyway.” He seemed to be able to tell that she was skeptical, though, so he said, “Look, Cat. Yes, I want to do this with you and that’s a big part of this, but this comedy festival is really important to me, too. I’ve been meeting some friends who are really into it, and I really want to learn from the performers and develop my act. And...I’m not taking Rex with me, either, so he won’t heckle anyone, and...that might be good for me, too.”

“I think some time away from Rex would do you both some good,” Cat admitted. “You sure you’re not doing this just to make me feel better?”

Robbie chuckled, “No. If I’m honest, I kind of wanted an excuse to wait a semester so I could go to this for myself.” He gave her a satisfied little smile.

But Cat knew Robbie, and knew the way he sometimes let other people dictate his life. She hesitated, but decided that what had once hung between them needed to be addressed somehow, “I just...I know that...you sometimes sacrifice too much, when you like somebody,” she said tentatively. Robbie’s eyebrows ticked upwards in surprise, and he set his shaved ice next to him on the seat, reaching to take one of Cat’s hands in both of his. Cat giggled, “Your hands are so cold.”

“So’s yours,” he smiled. “But Cat, I…” he seemed to be groping for words for a moment, “I _used to_ really like you, you know, like _that_. But it hasn’t really been like that for me for a long time.” He paused, and Cat let that sink in, feeling both relief and a little bit of disappointed loss that maybe there wasn’t someone out there who would always think she’d hung the moon. “But you’re my friend, and I care about you a lot, and I always will. I just want you to know that. You can always talk to me.”

Cat nodded slowly. “Thanks, Robbie. I care about you, too. But...not like that.”

Robbie smiled softly and let go of her hand, but as he settled back onto the bench, he knocked his cup of shaved ice over, and in fumbling it to try to save it, ended up pouring it into his lap. “Auugh!” Robbie shrieked, standing up and trying to brush all the ice off of his pants as best he could.

“Robbie!” Cat stifled laughter.

“I don’t even...ugh!” Robbie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’ll go get some napkins.”

“Kay kay,” Cat said, watching him walk quickly back toward the shaved ice stand. But without Robbie to talk to, Cat’s attention shifted behind her, to where the gym was. She easily spotted Sam among the muscle-bound men working out, her blonde hair like a beacon. She was standing with Dice, both of them apparently encouraging Goomer in his workout. Cat watched her for a while, the way she clapped and shouted at Goomer while Dice seemed to be counting reps and timing him.

As if sensing eyes on her, Sam turned after a while, immediately zeroing in on Cat at the bench. Her lips quirked in a smile, heading tilting questioningly. Cat smiled back, and just gave a thumbs up in answer.

“So,” Robbie was apparently back, because he was speaking next to her. Cat turned around quickly on the bench as he sat down next to her. “What’s going on there?”

“What do you mean?” Cat asked, embarrassed...at being caught, she guessed, though it wasn’t as though she was doing anything _wrong_.

Robbie gave her a skeptical look, “With you and _Sam_ ,” he gestured toward her discreetly. “I mean, I don’t know her very well, but you talk about her a lot, and I saw the way you tried to stop her from jumping her motorcycle over that tank of man-eating tuna.” He winced at the memory, but refocused on Cat, “You really care about her.”

Cat hesitated, but maybe it would feel good to finally tell _someone_. “I do,” Cat said, but even expressing her feelings aloud felt like too much somehow. So she settled on, “I _like_ her. Like, _really_ like her.”

Robbie nodded, “I know you do. Does she like you back?”

“I don’t know,” Cat replied, and her brain started spinning out scenarios even as her mouth was moving, “And even if she did, I’m not really... _well_ right now, so…”

Robbie shook his head, “I don’t think that would stop someone from loving you.” He seemed to realize as he said it that maybe it revealed more than was appropriate, so he backpedaled a little. “But I get it. You’re working on yourself, and maybe it’s good to focus on that, for now.”

“Yeah,” Cat decided. He was right, but privately, she thought she was, too. She was still trying to learn what her new normal was. She couldn’t afford to rock the boat at home, her only source of stability in her life right now.

As she held onto Sam on the back of her motorcycle on the way home, she reflected on that notion of stability and just how much of it was tied to her friend and roommate.

-

"It's weird seeing you doing night things," said Sam, watching Carly on the screen of the PearBook.

Carly furrowed her brow as she looked down at the camera from wherever her PearPad was balanced on the bathroom counter. "You've seen me get ready for bed probably literally hundreds of times."

"Yeah, but not _Italian-style_." And they'd almost exclusively had their chats around midnight, Pacific time, meaning it was always morning on Carly's end of things. It was also Thursday, which wasn’t their regularly scheduled chat day. But Sam had been bored, so she’d called her friend.

"It's the same as American-style, just with different outlets." Carly turned the PearPad toward the wall to show the round electrical outlet with the two circular holes.

"Looks like a little face."

"Don't all outlets kinda look like faces?"

Sam thought about it. Carly (as usual), had a point. She was about to say so when someone approached her to ask a question about the current Pear operating system update. "Ugh, hold on Carls," she said as she lowered the lid of the laptop and angled the screen downward. Didn't people care that she was on a call? Okay, yeah, she was at work and using one of the display computers to chat with Carly, but come on. After answering the question, she lifted the screen back up. "Sorry about that."

"Do I want to know how many people actually saw me brushing my teeth earlier?"

"Not that many. It's not that busy in here." Sam groaned. "And it's _so boring_. But I need some way to bring money in and this is at least air conditioned, so..."

"I thought you talked to Freddie about your account."

"I did."

"And?"

"And he set up my checks to direct deposit and all my bills to autopay."

"Sam, did you ever actually go look at your bank account?"

"Why would I?"

"You have the login info, right?"

Sam did. Somewhere. In an email. "Yeah."

"Go look at it, right now."

"Do I have to--"

" _GO LOOK AT IT_."

"Fine, chiz, I'll go look." It took her a minute to pull up the email from Freddie that had all the relevant information, but then she clicked the link to the bank website and entered the username and password. "Okay, I'm looking and--" Oh. _Oh shit._

"And now you see why I was bugging you about it?"

"How is this possible?"

"I told you, we've been making money off of _iCarly_ clicks. On top of anything we made while we were still doing the show."

Sam was looking at an account balance of $52,532. "We've made this much money?"

"No, we've made more. That's just the cash balance--seriously, did you read anything Freddie sent us about this?"

"You know the answer to that." But now she was searching for the relevant emails and finding that Carly was right, this was only part of the income generated from _iCarly.com_ , that there was another one-hundred thousand dollars in various investments in each of their names that Freddie was managing for them. "Oh, yeah. I see it now. I guess I just--"

"Hey, what's that different between the PearWatch 3Pro and the PearWatch 4?" interrupted a forty-ish looking dude with a beard.

"Hey, I don't actually need to answer that because I don't work here, anymore," Sam realized. She looked back at Carly on the screen. "I guess I'm gonna go home."

"Clear your history first!" reminded Carly.

"Always thinkin', Carls." Sam flashed a smile as she clicked the necessary selections on the browser menu. "Text you later," she said.

"Don't spend it all," Carly advised.

"Yeah, yeah."

" _I mean it_."

"I know. I won't." Though she was already daydreaming about a trip to Oh My God Meats. "Steaks are an investment, right?"

"Yeah, okay. But don't buy more than you can eat."

"Impossible." Sam signed off the video chat and hit the Demo Refresh button as one more safeguard to remove any of her personal information from the computer.

And for the second time in her life, she walked off the PearStore sales floor and away from a job she didn't love but was actually pretty good at.

When she got home, Sam guided her motorcycle into its space on the patio, her backpack filled with a reasonable amount of meats (she'd only bought enough to last the weekend, so it wasn't that wild of a spending spree), and let herself in through the sliding glass doors. The TV was on, the volume low, but the living room and kitchen spaces were uninhabited.

"Cat?" she called out, as she loaded her meaty purchases into the refrigerator. There was some kind of vocal response from the bedroom, but Sam couldn't tell what Cat was saying. She headed toward the back of the apartment and spotted Cat in their room, apparently reorganizing her stuffed animals while listening to something through her PearBuds.

Cat was mid-chorus on what sounded like the new Ginger Fox song when she turned around and spotted Sam. And then screamed. Her hand clutched her chest as she pushed out a breathy, " _Holy chiz_!" Immediately, Sam stepped forward, expecting Cat to buckle and drop to the floor like she did when she was scared. Instead, she grabbed Sam's arm with one hand and pulled her headphones out with the other. "Why would you do that?"

"I just walked in!"

"You _scared_ me."

"I can tell," Sam replied, giving Cat's hand a pat with her own.

Cat took a couple more breaths. "My heart’s going crazy."

"Maybe sit down?" Sam walked her over to the soda can stool next to her bed and Cat complied with the suggestion. "Usually you're on ground at this point," she pointed out.

"I guess I'm always non-conscious for this part," Cat realized, hand on her chest.

"You want some water or something?" Sam was already two steps away from the fridge in the corner of the room, so she grabbed a water bottle from it before Cat even answered. "Here," she offered, twisting off the cap and handing it to her.

Cat took a sip and seemed to center herself. "You're home early."

"I am," Sam admitted. "I actually just quit the PearStore."

"Another fight with the Hot Dog on a Stick guy?" Cat asked.

Okay, there _had been_ an encounter with that dude in the morning (he always came in to use the demo computers to send emails with his sticky lemonade fingers and never took too kindly to Sam calling him out on it). "Yeah, but that's not why." Sam shed her motorcycle jacket and tossed it on her bed. "Turns out I still make money from _iCarly_ , so...I didn't need the second job."

"Does that mean we can start babysitting again?"

"You don't have to work, right now."

"But I want to. Sam, I need _something_ to do. I can't handle living like this." Cat rose from the stool and paced in front of Sam. "You're cooking your own breakfast. Someone else does our laundry. You haven't left any dirty dishes out except when you fall asleep with them." She flung her arms out to the sides of her body. " _It's driving me nuts_!"

All Sam had wanted to do was keep things light and easy for Cat, but it seemed obvious that she'd gone about it the wrong way. "Hey, okay." She gently guided Cat's arms back down. "Let's take some babysitting jobs. But...maybe only book one job at a time?"

Cat nodded. "And can you _please_ leave some stuff around for me to clean up?"

"You're not responsible for my messes," stated Sam.

"But," Cat paused, collecting her thoughts, "your messes are normal. And things don't feel very normal, right now." She strode to her side of the room and sat on the edge of her bed. "Everything's different. My new vit--medicine makes me tired all the time but then I can't sleep at night."

"That's supposed to pass, right? Your paperwork said after about three or four weeks, it should even out."

"Yeah, I hope so-- _Wait_. How do you know what my hospital papers say?"

Sam felt her stomach sink, like a sad version of hunger. "I...looked at them. When they were on the desk."

"That's personal stuff," Cat said, quietly, looking at the floor.

"I know," Sam replied, sighing and shuffling across the room to crouch in front of Cat so she could catch her eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried. I just...want to know what to do to help you."

"So, _ask_ me." Cat's hand clasped onto Sam's shoulder, then slid under her arm and tugged at it until Sam sat next to her on the bed. "I won't keep anything from you. Not on purpose, anyway."

"Will you promise to tell me when you need help with stuff around the apartment?" Sam asked.

"Trash, spider catching, stuff with tools. Those are your jobs." That was what they'd agreed upon a while ago.

"I can do that. But I think we should still have Kiala handle the laundry. If anyone's handling my _stinkables_ , they deserve to get paid for it."

" _Saaaam_ ," Cat elbowed her for using the term Sam knew she didn't like. But she nodded in agreement. "Thank you for wanting to help me."

"Of course I want to help you. You're..." Sam considered just what it was she wanted to say, because she hadn't really parsed it out, not fully, beyond the fact that she cared about Cat. The blooming feeling in her chest, the fluttery one that suggested it was more than care. She loved Cat. She knew that. She'd known that for a while. But it seemed like an extra complication, given the circumstance. For now, she settled on, "You're important to me. And I'm not just saying that because I bought brand new meat that I think would make great meatballs."

That drew a smile from Cat accompanied by a sudden embrace as she squeezed her arms around Sam. "I wouldn't be able to do this without you."

"Yeah, you would. There would just be a lot less meat involved." Sam slipped her own arms around Cat to return the hug. They lingered that way for a moment before finally breaking apart so Cat could start working on dinner while Sam hauled the garbage out to the bin on the patio.

They had something that worked.

Sam was beginning to wonder what it all actually meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Love is a Wild Thing_ by Kacey Musgraves.
> 
> **Next time on Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay):**
> 
> Howie had been a good choice for the first kid they’d babysat since Cat came home, and Cat really seemed to enjoy sitting with him and talking to him about what books he’d been reading lately. The return to normalcy of working and spending time with kids seemed to be something Cat really responded to as well, and Sam ended up not having much to do at all with regard to watching Howie for a couple of hours, which suited her. 
> 
> When a few hours had passed, the doorbell rang. Cat stood up from the sofa. “I’ll get it!” she called, hurrying to answer the door.
> 
> As Sam expected, Howie’s mom was on the other side. But as Cat said goodbye to Howie and collected payment, Sam hung back, offering a wave when Howie acknowledged her, because she’d just realized something.
> 
> When Cat shut the door, Sam vocalized it. “You didn’t say ding-dong.”
> 
> “What?” Cat asked, taking the cash over to the pineapple in the fruit bowl (they’d agreed to continue using it, though they had set a limit for how much could be in it and Sam was responsible for taking it to the bank).
> 
> “You know. How you always used to repeat the sound of the doorbell. Come to think of it,” Sam thought back to the last week that Cat had been home. They hadn’t had a lot of people come to the door, but when Dice had dropped in or Kiala came by for laundry service, Sam realized Cat hadn’t repeated the sound then, either. “I don’t know when the last time I heard you say it was.”
> 
> Cat just looked puzzled. “I didn’t know I wasn’t doing it. But...I guess I didn’t always know when I _was_ doing it, either, until it was out of my mouth.”
> 
> Sam wondered if this had to do with Cat’s new medication, which should be starting to hit full effectiveness in her system soon, or maybe even now. Or maybe it was just something that had changed once Cat switched medications. She thought about how Cat didn’t faint anymore when she got scared, and now this, the loss of what Sam had eventually realized was a kind of verbal tic that Cat had, considering she barely seemed aware that she was doing it. These weren’t traits that _defined_ Cat, and Sam knew that their absence was probably ultimately a good thing.
> 
> It just made her wonder what else was going to change about her friend, going forward.


	3. Beginnings: I'll tell you one thing, It's always better when we're together

Friday afternoon happened to be naptime. In being home for almost a week, Cat was sleeping a little better at night, but still found herself wanting a nap most days. Today, Sam had even joined her in the shared bedroom, because apparently she’d had too much coffee and was crashing a little. Cat had noticed that, the way Sam’s coffee intake had increased since she’d been home. It seemed to help her with focus and productivity to a point, and had helped her with her work at the PearStore up until she’d quit the day before.

But Sam and caffeine clearly had a limit.

Cat had just fallen into a dream about exploring an attic that her apartment definitely didn’t have and finding out her old hamster Santa was alive and living in it when she heard music start playing.

She came out of sleep groggily, trying to make sense of it. Evidently, it was loud enough, or went on long enough, that Sam groaned from across the room. “Cat. Your phone.”

“Oh,” she managed, clumsily sitting up in bed and reaching for her phone. The name on the screen said _Mom_. That’s right. She’d forgotten her mother was calling today. She cleared her throat and answered as she stood up, “Hi, Mom,” she said, voice subdued.

Across the room, Sam was sitting up, face either concerned or irritable behind her messy blonde hair. Cat waved at her placatingly as she left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“Hello, darling,” her mom greeted, her tone cheery and warm as it always was. “I’m so sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk until now.”

“That’s okay,” Cat assured reflexively, now pouring herself a glass of water in the kitchen. “How are you?” she asked, going to sit in the dining nook with her beverage.

“We’re doing all right,” her mother reported, “Between work and Giovanni, I hardly know where time goes,” she laughed mirthlessly. It was a common theme for Cat’s parents for as long as she could remember: always busy. Even moving hadn’t changed that. Her mom was still working remotely for the same man Cat had dogsat for in the past, and her dad had taken a transfer position at his company that paid less, but cost of living was lower in Idaho, so they were making it work. “But I want to hear how you’re doing. You got out of the hospital...when, again?”

“Last Saturday,” Cat reminded her.

“That’s right,” her mom said, “How is everything?”

Cat knew that her mom had heard everything from Nona, but she supposed being asked was nice, in a way. “It’s going okay. They switched my medication and I’m getting used to the new one and I think it’s helping? It’s nice to be home.”

“I’ll bet. You made the right choice staying in the hospital, though.”

“I know.” It wasn’t as though she’d second-guessed that decision, as hard as it had been sometimes.

“Did your classes start yet?”

“I’m not starting school this semester. I’m waiting until the spring.”

“Oh, I see. That’s probably a good idea.”

“I know.” Cat was a little bit irritated, even though her mom kept affirming her decisions. But if they weren’t good decisions, she wouldn’t be making them.

“Well, just keep listening to your doctors. Oh, are you seeing a doctor yet? We could recommend someone.”

“I have an appointment coming up,” Cat said, though that was for a psychiatrist. She still didn’t have a therapist lined up. But she didn’t want to take a recommendation from her parents on that, either. She trusted Dr. Greene’s list more.

“Oh, good. It sounds like you’re on top of everything.”

That kind of praise made Cat smile, a little. At least making appointments was something she’d done, between her once again red velvet hair and her psychiatrist. “I’m trying to be.”

“Everything else okay? Is Nona helping you out? How’s your roommate?”

“Nona’s great,” Cat reported. They’d seen each other a couple of times over the week, but Nona seemed to be waiting for Cat to tell her what she needed and Cat didn’t need much, not with Sam around. “Sam’s great, too,” she finished.

“Glad to hear it,” her mom sounded relieved.

“Did Gio get my letter yet?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Oh. I sent it early this week.” Cat hesitated, “Does he know...what happened to me?”

“No. We didn’t want him to worry too much about you.”

Cat exhaled, but she couldn’t decide if she felt relieved or not. She didn’t want Gio to worry either...but a part of her wanted him to know that she’d gone through something scary, something he could maybe relate to. “Okay.”

A silence that stretched for a moment, and then, “Do you want to talk to your dad? He’s…” More silence, “Oh, hmm, he’s on a call. I can have him call you--”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Cat dismissed, “Just tell him I love him, okay?”

“Of course, darling. And you’re really okay, right? Do you need anything?” her mom implored.

“I’m really okay, Mom,” Cat assured.

“Okay, just let us know if you need anything. We love you.”

“I love you, too,” Cat replied, hanging up and feeling a quiet sort of detachment as they disconnected.

She sat for a moment, phone on the table in front of her, sipping on the water she’d poured. Even after getting out of a three-week long hospital stay, her conversation with her mother had been pretty standard. But, she supposed that with her brother’s history with hospitals and institutions, her own stint in the Phoenix General Hospital psychiatric ward seemed almost routine in comparison.

A minute later, she heard shuffling footsteps, and turned to see Sam stepping into the kitchen, her clothes and hair rumpled from her nap. “You okay?” Sam asked, running a hand through her hair as she regarded Cat from where she’d stopped near the refrigerator.

“Yeah. Just my mom,” Cat replied.

Sam nodded in understanding before opening the fridge and poking around inside. Cat watched her for a moment, thinking about the little she knew about Sam’s mom. That she certainly didn’t keep in regular touch with her, and that if she got a call from her, it was usually because she needed money or was in jail. There were certainly things that occasionally frustrated her about her own parents, but she tried to remember that it could be worse. She could not want to hear from them at all.

That weekend, Jade came to take Cat to lunch at Bots. It was something that had started soon after Jade and Sam had befriended each other, after the fiasco with the motorcycle jump and the carnivorous tuna. Jade began to make more of an effort to see Cat one on one, the way she also did with Sam. Cat appreciated this, because Jade was one of her oldest friends, and it had hurt to think that she might be set aside in favor of her roommate.

But that hadn’t been the case, and she, Jade, Sam, and Tori had all hung out in various configurations since. Though she did especially value the times she got to spend time with just Jade.

And unlike her conversation with Robbie, in which she’d had to confess to hiding something from him and tell him something he might not want to hear, Jade already knew everything that had been going on. Cat considered that this could be a good opportunity, too, to talk to someone about her adjustment to being back home.

Jade even seemed to anticipate that this would be what was on Cat’s mind, because as they sipped their drinks and waited for their food, she asked, “So, are you settling into being back home okay?”

Even this side of Jade, the one that paid attention to other people’s feelings in a more empathetic way, was a little bit newer. Cat had known Jade since junior high, and their friendship had gone through a lot of fluctuations and phases. They’d met and bonded because they both loved theater--not uncommon for Hollywood Arts, of course, but their shared interest in many of the same shows drew them together. Early on, Cat had even kind of developed a crush on Jade, who had always been sort of bold and confident in a way that Cat admired. There had been incredibly intimate moments at so many sleepovers, nothing that even qualified as anything romantic or sexual, just platonic intimacy, but the potency of them for Cat’s crush-addled brain made them unforgettable.

But then, Jade started dating Beck, and things shifted. It took some time for the crush to evaporate completely, but they were spending less time together, and Cat noticed a shift in her friend, who became so desperate to please her boyfriend that her confidence slipped palpably. She developed harder edges, an intimidating persona born of her jealousy and insecurity. She was even harsher with Cat, not in a way that Cat took personally, but there were definitely moments when Jade could be kinda... _mean_. But she was like that to everybody, it was just how Jade thought she had to live her life as Beck’s girlfriend. So Cat didn’t begrudge her any of it. When they were by themselves (and not filming videos for The Slap), a bit of the old Jade still shone through sometimes.

Since dating Tori, though, Jade had softened considerably. She was still quick with a biting remark, she still had little patience for most people in general, but her life wasn’t defined by her role as a jealous, insecure girlfriend. Cat liked Beck as a friend, and she’d always supported Jade’s relationship with him because she wanted her to be happy, but seeing the shift in Jade since her breakup and the beginning of her romance with Tori, she saw the ways that Jade’s worst qualities had been brought out by her old relationship.

Maybe it was even previous Jade, _Beck’s_ Jade, that she’d been thinking of when she’d worried that Jade and Sam would kill each other if they ever met.

Cat considered her answer to Jade’s question, taking another sip of her water thoughtfully. “I think so,” she replied, “I’m just getting used to the fact that everything is so different. I thought only I would be the one to change from this.”

“Different how?” Jade asked, blue eyes scrutinizing Cat.

“I just mean...Sam changed, too,” she confessed, “And I wasn’t really expecting that.”

“She seems about the same to me,” Jade commented, “But I’m sure you see a different side of her than I do.”

There was something in Jade’s tone, something probing, but Cat wasn’t sure what she was probing for, exactly. “I just mean...she got a job for awhile, and she’s really been taking care of herself--and all that is good! But it’s just...different. The apartment is _so clean_ that it’s _weird_ sometimes.”

Jade actually snorted in response to this. “That’s just because she’s able to keep up with it.”

Cat frowned, “What does _that_ mean?”

Jade leaned forward a little bit, tone taking on a slightly conspiratorial edge. “It means that a few days before you came home, Tori and I helped Sam clean the entire apartment. And let me tell you. It was an _absolute_ _disaster_.” She straightened up, smirking a little at Cat’s expression, which must have been a little shocked. Sam had told her Jade and Tori had helped her, but she didn’t mention why. “So the fact that Sam is keeping up with things? That’s because you’re there, keeping her in check. Sure, she had to figure out how to take care of a lot of things without you there, but she sure wasn’t better off without you.”

Cat wasn’t sure how Jade had managed to touch upon the exact thing she’d been worried about, but there it was. She shouldn’t have been relieved to know that Sam had struggled without her, she knew, but it was just nice to know her absence had meant something. “Really?” she asked, “I didn’t know. I just...it seemed like she didn’t need me anymore, and…”

Jade tilted her head, “Like you said, it’s good that she’s taking care of herself, but I was also around when you were gone. Sam was _so worried_ about you, Cat. Like, I know I haven’t known her for _that_ long, but she was so bummed out that she was barely interested in food.” Jade raised her eyebrows to emphasize the point.

Cat stared, “ _Really_?” _That_ was certainly hard to imagine, coming from Sam.

Jade nodded. “Yeah. I _know_ Sam really cares about you.” She paused, watching Cat, as if waiting for some kind of confirmation, and Cat merely nodded. “That’s probably why she’s made all the changes she did.”

Cat knew that Sam cared about her, too. She’d outright said as much. But hearing it from Jade, hearing that her absence had actually had an impact, somehow made her feel better about everything that had been happening at home.

Their food arrived, and they shifted naturally to other topics--college, babysitting, Tori, Cat trying to find a therapist who was accepting new patients. But in the back of her mind, she had the image of Sam, so worried she’d lost interest in food.

She noted its significance, and filed it away.

-

Even with the slight changes around the apartment, some things were falling back into place. They’d scheduled a babysitting job for Monday afternoon and Howie had been a good choice for the first kid they’d babysat since Cat came home, and Cat really seemed to enjoy sitting with him and talking to him about what books he’d been reading lately. The return to normalcy of working and spending time with kids seemed to be something Cat really responded to as well, and Sam ended up not having much to do at all with regard to watching Howie for a couple of hours, which suited her.

When a few hours had passed, the doorbell rang. Cat stood up from the sofa. “I’ll get it!” she called, hurrying to answer the door.

As Sam expected, Howie’s mom was on the other side. But as Cat said goodbye to Howie and collected payment, Sam hung back, offering a wave when Howie acknowledged her, because she’d just realized something.

When Cat shut the door, Sam vocalized it. “You didn’t say ding-dong.”

“What?” Cat asked, taking the cash over to the pineapple in the fruit bowl (they’d agreed to continue using it, though they had set a limit for how much could be in it and Sam was responsible for taking it to the bank).

“You know. How you always used to repeat the sound of the doorbell? Come to think of it,” Sam thought back to the last week that Cat had been home. They hadn’t had a lot of people come to the door, but when Dice had dropped in or Kiala came by for laundry service, Sam realized Cat hadn’t repeated the sound then, either. “I don’t know when the last time I heard you say it was.”

Cat just looked puzzled. “I didn’t know I wasn’t doing it. But...I guess I didn’t always know when I _was_ doing it, either, until it was out of my mouth.”

Sam wondered if this had to do with Cat’s new medication, which should be starting to hit full effectiveness in her system soon, or maybe even now. Or maybe it was just something that had changed once Cat stopped taking her old medication. She thought about how Cat didn’t faint anymore when she got scared, and now this, the loss of what Sam had eventually realized was a kind of verbal tic that Cat had, considering she barely seemed aware that she was doing it. These weren’t traits that _defined_ Cat, and Sam knew that their absence was probably ultimately a good thing.

It just made her wonder what else was going to change about her friend, going forward.

-

Cat’s first appointment with her psychiatrist was the next day, and it was one she’d managed to make pretty easily. Which was probably good, because she’d need a refill on her prescription soon. From her list of recommended psychiatrists provided by Dr. Greene, Cat had phoned the name at the top of the list first, a Dr. Jacob Y. Russ, figuring he must be the best.

Sam drove her to her appointment, only about a fifteen minute drive. Cat knew how these things tended to go, and that her appointment really wouldn’t run longer than an hour, might even be shorter, so Sam promised to stay close by. Probably trying to respect Cat’s privacy, she hadn’t offered to go inside with her, and Cat hadn’t asked. This was something she wanted to do herself.

Cat’s psychiatrist worked in a small medical office building, which appeared sort of old-fashioned and off-putting when Cat first stepped into it, but a friendly receptionist guided her to the right room, which Cat liked, because it was easy to get overwhelmed in a new place like this. Though the exterior door was as bland as the rest of the building, the inside of Dr. Russ’s waiting room was different. The furniture was a variety of subdued colors, nothing too bright and stimulating, but the greens, blues and purples were at least nicer to look at than uniform gray. The walls were decorated with a variety of beach landscapes and also a map of Hawaii.

Another smiling receptionist took Cat’s name and insurance card and handed her a clipboard with some forms to fill out, which Cat did her best to complete. She was supposed to be an adult, now, but there were still so many things she didn’t know how to answer. Family and personal medical history was incomplete, because she knew some things specifically and other things not at all. She didn’t really know how her health insurance worked; her parents or maybe Nona were still handling that (which reminded her that she’d wondered whether Sam had any health insurance, especially since she rode all over the city on that motorcycle). Even filling out the section about how she’d been feeling lately was a little hard, because “not very strongly one way or another” wasn’t exactly an option.

But parts of it were easy: listing Nona and Sam as her two emergency contacts, for example.

When she’d done her best with the information on the clipboard, she handed it over and sank back into her surprisingly comfortable waiting room chair. There was one other woman waiting there who ignored her completely. Cat supposed that was fair; they were in a psychiatrist’s office, after all. Cat could be anybody, with any sort of issue. But it also made her a little sad, thinking about the ways people sometimes pretended Gio didn’t exist when he’d acted out in public. When they weren’t staring at him in terror, that was.

As much as she hated to admit it, it was probably a good thing that Gio was being kept somewhere safe and not living an independent life right now. His future was still unclear to her. But she missed him. Phone and video communication was even stricter where he was than at Phoenix General Hospital’s psychiatric ward, so they’d really only communicated through letters for the past year and a half. He sounded like he was doing okay, though occasionally there would be confusing details in his writing, and he never really wrote about his condition. Anything Cat knew about that came from what their parents told her, and she couldn’t be sure of the validity of that. They had a tendency to sugarcoat things for her.

Cat shuffled through the waiting room magazines for a while. _Psychology Today, Neuroscience News, National Geographic_...she flipped through a few of them, but they were mostly boring. Cat tried not to get fidgety and watched the receptionist.

And then, a young man came out from the door on the other end of the waiting room. The woman stood up to meet him, and the two of them walked over to the receptionist’s desk. Cat couldn’t hear what they said, but she could barely see another man behind the desk talking to the receptionist for a minute or so. Then, the door opened again, and a voice said, “Catarina?”

“It’s just Cat,” she replied, getting to her feet.

“Nice to meet you, Cat,” the same man who’d talked to the receptionist said easily, “I’m Dr. Russ. Come right this way.”

Past the door to the receptionist’s office was another door, and Dr. Russ stepped aside to let Cat enter first. There was a desk, a bookshelf, a couch, and a couple of armchairs in the room, as well as some plants and more pictures of the beach decorating the space.

“Have a seat wherever you like,” Dr. Russ invited. Cat figured she was probably expected to sit on the couch, so she did. It was fairly comfortable, like the waiting room furniture.

Once seated, she was able to get a good look at her psychiatrist, who now sat at his desk, and immediately decided he reminded her of Sikowitz, but with a head of curly hair (instead of a mostly bald one) and big glasses. But there was something about his clothes--more put together than Sikowitz’s, but with a similar vintage throwback hippie vibe--and even something about his voice that reminded her of her former acting teacher.

Already, she kind of liked Dr. Russ. He smiled at her as she smoothed her skirt and got right down to business, “So, Cat. You’ve been on the TabulaPro for about three weeks now, yes?”

Cat nodded, “Yeah.”

“I understand that you may still be getting used to it, but so far, do you think it’s been helpful to you?”

Cat nodded again, “I think so? I mean. I’ve noticed some changes. Good, I think.”

“Would you like to tell me about them?”

“Sure,” Cat agreed, “I guess the first thing is that I used to go non-conscious when I got really scared, but I don’t anymore? My roommate, Sam, startled me and I felt my whole body get cold and hot at the same time and thought my heart might burst with how fast it was racing, but...I stayed awake.” She winced a little at the memory, “It was awful.”

Dr. Russ nodded sympathetically, “That’s very interesting. Would you say that going _non-conscious_ means that you would faint, or pass out?”

“Yeah, I guess. It just makes me sound like a scaredy-cat when I say it that way. Non-conscious feels more like a thing that just happens to me.”

“I see,” Dr. Russ replied, “Well, I’d say yes, that is a good thing, although I’m not sure we can thank the TabulaPro for that. Your old medication, the one you were for several years before, was likely lowering your blood pressure. It’s a common side effect, especially at higher dosages, and though it clearly wasn’t low enough on a daily basis to harm you or your primary care physician would have caught it, it’s very likely that’s what was making you pass out when you were startled or frightened. And even though those are very unpleasant feelings, it can be healthy to feel that kind of heightened emotion sometimes.”

“If you say so,” Cat mumbled skeptically, which made Dr. Russ chuckle softly.

“Anything else that you’ve noticed?”

“I...stopped saying _ding-dong_.”

“Was that something you said often?”

“No, it was...I guess when the doorbell used to ring at my apartment, I used to repeat it. I didn’t really know I was doing it, and I didn’t notice that I’d stopped, either. But my roommate Sam says I haven’t done it since I came home from Pho-enix.”

Dr. Russ nodded thoughtfully. “Well, it sounds like that might have been a verbal tic and those can develop for many different reasons, but a common cause is anxiety. Your old medication is sometimes effective for anxiety, but it’s also not commonly prescribed to minors.” It was subtle, but something in his tone told Cat that Dr. Russ wasn’t happy with her old psychiatrist. “And now you’re being medicated more specifically for Generalized Anxiety Disorder, so that could contribute to why you haven’t responded the same way.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“What else can you tell me? I noticed that on your mood questionnaire that it doesn’t seem like you’ve been feeling very anxious or depressed.”

“That’s true,” Cat replied, “I’m probably still getting used to everything, but I’m not feeling very much at all most days.”

“That could be part of the adjustment, though certainly if feelings of numbness persist, we might need to reassess your treatment, so we’ll keep an eye on that. Now, you were previously medicated for ADHD, correct?”

She’d seen that on her paperwork from the hospital, but replied, “They gave me an antidepressant.”

“Wellbutrin can be prescribed for both conditions, but it’s childhood ADHD that appears on your medical record. Do you feel you were depressed?”

“I’m not sure,” Cat conceded, “I was on it for so long it’s hard to remember what I felt like before.”

“That’s understandable. We should always be aware of symptoms of depression and I hope you know if you begin to feel depressed, that it is valid and that I can help you.” Cat nodded, and she did believe him. He put her at ease. “As for ADHD, since you’re on a different medication now, it’s possible that some symptoms might return. Diagnostic criteria change in adulthood, so we may find that you no longer present the symptoms of ADHD, or we may find that you still do, and we can address it. Have you experienced any impulsiveness, or difficulty focusing, or racing thoughts lately?”

“Not really,” Cat replied, “But I remember it was mostly stuff with school that got me sent to the doctor, before.” It was a sudden memory, one she’d forgotten about, when weeks of forgetting to do her homework for Math and History had resulted in Hollywood Arts contacting her parents about possible failing grades in her core classes. They’d argued for hours as she tried to tell her parents how impossible it was to pay attention in her Math and History classes and she’d cried in frustration that she couldn’t concentrate to even do her homework when her dad had sat down with her to watch her do it. That had been why they’d sent her to that doctor who had prescribed her old medication. He’d never really explained to her what it was for, and she’d drawn her own conclusions, but...ADHD made some sense, she guessed.

“Are you a student?” Dr. Russ asked.

“No, but I’m supposed to start community college in the spring.”

“Well, if you have any trouble with schoolwork when you go back, or notice any potential symptoms in the meantime, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

They talked for a little bit longer about Cat’s experience on her previous medication, and her experience with her last psychiatrist, and they even touched on her brother, and how Cat was afraid of ending up like him. And all through it, Dr. Russ gave her honest answers, and a willing ear. Cat definitely liked him, almost as much as Dr. Greene, and definitely more than her last psychiatrist. When more time had passed than Cat realized, Dr. Russ asked one more question.

“Sorry if you already filled this out on the paperwork my receptionist has, but I like to be sure. Have you selected a therapist yet?”

“No,” Cat replied glumly, “They all seem like they’re not accepting new patients.”

Dr. Russ nodded, “That’s what I was afraid of. But I can get you a referral. Let’s see…” he shuffled through some papers, “I have the list here that you were given by Dr. Greene at Phoenix General...ah, yes. Dr. Penny Natarajan is a colleague I’m very familiar with. Since she’s also recommended by Dr. Greene, if you like, I can get you a referral.”

Cat couldn’t remember which failed phone call to associate with Dr. Natarajan, but that sounded good to her, “Yes, thank you.”

“Wonderful. Finding a therapist you like can be difficult, and if you don’t feel comfortable with Dr. Natarajan, I can refer you to someone else. You won’t hurt my feelings,” he smiled.

“Okay. Thank you, Dr. Russ.” And with that, Cat’s first visit with a psychiatrist she’d actually enjoyed talking to (outside of a hospital) was over.

Cat felt pretty good about it, overall.

-

Having dropped Cat off at her appointment and needing to kill at least an hour, Sam decided to check out the area around the building that housed the medical offices. Most of the stuff in the immediate area seemed to be similar office type spaces, but there was a JetBrew down on the corner that seemed like it would at least be a spot to sit and cruise SplashFace, if it came down to it. As she walked along the sidewalk, she passed a dry cleaner, a dentist, and a used bookstore. Books weren't always her vibe, but she did like reading if a story was interesting enough. She'd easily made her way through through the Harry Potter books when she was younger and a few horror novels more recently. But it wasn't fiction that caught her attention in the store window, it was a large, hardcover book with a glossy image of a Sterling motorcycle (it looked newer than her 1968 model) sitting on an open desert road and the words _Open Throttle, Open Road_ across the cover.

Sam immediately pushed her way through the door, the electronic chime making her absently hear Cat calling out "ding-dong" in her mind, and walked over to where the book was displayed. As she picked it up and flipped the pages to see even more vibrant images of gorgeous bikes, the clerk behind the counter offered a greeting.

"Welcome," said the woman, cheerfully. She was older, maybe in her sixties (Sam wasn't that great at guessing ages), with a casual librarian look one might expect from someone in a used bookstore.

It took a second for Sam to even really register that someone was speaking to her, but then she realized she should probably say something, just so she didn't seem like a creep. "Hey," she offered. There wasn't much of a conversation to be had, but she and the woman exchanged nods and Sam went back to looking at the book for a few moments before she decided she clearly liked it enough to buy it.

As she set it on the counter, the clerk (whose name tag said: _Harmony_ ) ran her hand over the cover. "I really love this one," she said. "Reminds me I need to get back out there, sometime soon."

"You ride?" Sam asked, digging her wallet out of her pocket.

"When I can."

Sam nodded toward the window where her own motorcycle was parked across the street. "That's mine, out there. Took a trip kind of all over a little over a year ago."

"I'm envious," admitted Harmony, eyeing the Sterling. "Running the shop doesn't give me a lot of time for long rides. I do try to get out to do the Santa Barbara Loop whenever I can." Sam must've looked a little lost since she was still kind of new to California, so Harmony continued, flipping through the book until she found a specific page. "Here. It's about five hours without the drive time to get out there from here. Beautiful scenery, very peaceful."

"Oh wow," Sam said, looking at the map Harmony pointed to.

And then Harmony chuckled. "I guess you were already buying the book, I don't need to sell it to you." She gently closed the pages and flipped the book around to scan the barcode on the back.

Sam shrugged and swiped her card in the credit card machine. "It's cool, though. I'm already thinking about when I can make the trip."

"When you do, be sure to come back and tell me about it," Harmony said with a wink as she handed over the book.

Knowing she'd likely be in this area again as long as Cat kept seeing this particular doctor, Sam nodded. "I will. Thanks."

As she strode toward the JetBrew with her new purchase from New to Yoused Bookstore, Sam considered how she hadn't been taking her Sterling out as much as maybe she used to when she'd first moved to Los Angeles. She wondered if Cat would enjoy longer rides up and down the coast or if it was something Sam would do alone. She loved solitary rides, but she also found that she enjoyed Cat's company, even when it was as simple as the arms around her waist as they moved from deeper in the city out toward the ocean.

Once in the coffee shop, Sam ordered a cold brew and sat with her book until Cat texted that it was time to pick her up.

**  
I'm done! 😸😸😸**

**Where RU?**

**Getting coffee down the street**

**Be right there**

**☕☕☕**

  
Sam gathered up her book and her coffee, then exited the JetBrew to head back toward Cat's doctor's office. Her phone buzzed, again.  
  


**I have to drop off my person**

**😆😆**

**Prescription**

**@ the pharmacy**

  
Even though she was probably a minute away from meeting Cat, Sam replied.

**  
There's one by the InsideOut Burger across the street**

**🍔🍟🤗**

  
And then Sam was right there, in front of Cat.

"Hi," she greeted, with a wide smile, as if they hadn't just been texting each other. "Ooh, what's that?" Cat asked, eyeing Sam's new book.

"I bought it at the little used bookstore back there," Sam nodded behind them as they walked in the opposite direction as she showed Cat the cover.

"So you found something to do while I was in my appointment," she observed.

"Yeah, between that and JetBrew, it wasn't bad." Sam wanted to know how Cat's visit with her new doctor had gone, but she didn't know how much she should ask. Maybe just the basics. "How'd it go?"

Cat's hand slipped through Sam's arm, something that was common when they were walking together, something Sam was glad to notice still existed, unlike the verbal tic with the doorbell. "It was okay, I guess. Dr. Russ is very nice. He's referring me to...um...." she dug into the purse that dangled from her arm until she found a piece of paper. "Dr. Natarajan. She has an opening tomorrow morning so I can go in for a preliminary appointment."

"Okay, what time?"

"Ten. I can take a WeDriveU, if that's too ear--"

"Cat, I'll give you a ride, it's no problem."

Without looking at her, Sam could still hear Cat's relieved sigh. "Okay, good."

Sam paused on the sidewalk and turned to face her friend. "I'm here to help, remember?"

"I know," Cat shrugged, looking at the sidewalk. "I just don't want you to think I expect it."

"It's not like I have anything else going on," Sam said. She allowed them to pick their pace back up as they moved toward the corner where they needed to cross to get to the pharmacy. "I really don't mind doing it."

Cat's arm tightened a bit around Sam's, like a hug of their elbows. "Thank you."

They dropped off Cat's prescription and, while they waited for it, they used their Free Cheeseburger status at InsideOut Burger to grab lunch. As they sat sipping their sodas before their food was ready, Sam reminded Cat she was supposed to be forwarding any emails about household bills to her. With Freddie's help, Sam had been able to add a few more things to autopay out of her account, so she could be sure everything was covered. She and Cat had agreed all the babysitting money would go into a separate account instead of their hollowed out pineapple (though they did keep about a hundred bucks in it, just in case), which they'd use for general spending money.

"What's this one?" Sam asked, scanning her eyes over an email Cat had just sent.

"It's for my storage unit."

"The one with Nona's stuff in it?" Sam had never even known where all that had gone when they'd replaced all the furniture. Or, wait. Whatever storage unit it had ended up in probably belonged to the production company.

"No, _my_ stuff."

"Cat, _what stuff_?"

"Just...things I have."

Okay, this was news to Sam. In the year or so she'd known Cat, she'd never once heard about this mystery storage unit. So, after they'd eaten lunch and picked up Cat's medication, they drove to Keep It Here, a small storage complex in Santa Monica. Cat unlocked the padlock on the rolling door with a key she'd apparently had on her keychain this entire time. When the door slid open, Sam was looking into a space at least ten feet deep that was stacked with boxes and plastic tubs. She grabbed the box nearest to her and pulled it open. It was full of...clothes?

"Cat, what the chiz is this?" she asked, lifting a garment out and holding it up.

Cat's eyes lit up and she said, in an oddly professional voice, like a sales pitch, "They’re pajamas, they’re jeans, they’re leggings, it’s a hoodie, it’s a poncho! It’s the _Pajelehoocho_!"

"Okay," Sam had to laugh, because Cat was being so adorable about something so absurd. "But why do you have fifty of them?"

"I have over a hundred," Cat admitted. "Because I accidentally bought a gross, which sounds, you know, _gross_ , but it actually means a hundred and forty-four."

Now Sam was even more curious. She checked the next box, which was full of batteries. And another that seemed to have bags filled with rags in it. "Where did all this come from?"

"I bought it."

"When?"

"Whenever. Sometimes I just like to shop."

Sam felt that there was a lot more to the story than that, but she didn't need to know, at the moment. "What do you plan to do with all of it?"

At that, Cat shrugged. "I tried giving some of it away. And I tried to sell the Pajelehoochos to make my money back, but no one wanted them."

"I dunno, it seems kinda cool," said Sam, picking up the one she'd liberated from the box. It might be the perfect thing to wear while doing the dirtier maintenance on her bike.

"I know, right? But none of my friends would buy one. Except Robbie. And I know he just did it because I asked him to."

That sounded about right from what Sam knew about the guy. "If you really want to get rid of this stuff, maybe we just need someone who's better at making deals."

Cat's eyes widened as a slow smile spread across her face. "Dice!"

"Yep." Sam also had a feeling she might be able to convince people to make some purchases, if it got down to it. But letting Dice work his connections would likely result in fewer threats of physical violence. She tucked the Pajelehoocho into her backpack (which Cat had to wear when they rode together) and she then drove them home, taking the route toward the beach and cruising along the shoreline before turning down the few blocks that dipped back into the residential area.

Once they were back at their apartment, Sam parked the Sterling in its spot and Cat unpacked the bag at her desk, slipping some paperwork into a new basket that Sam didn't remember seeing before. After a moment, Cat labeled it with a sticker that said: _Sam Can Look_.

"I decided," Cat explained, probably because of the confused expression twisted on Sam's face, "that I'm going to put things about my trips to the doctor in here, so you can know what's happening with me. Anything I don't want you to see, I'll put over here." She pointed to a folder on the opposite side of the desk.

A warm feeling moved through Sam, one that made her feel...appreciated. "Okay. I really like that plan." When Cat rose from her seat at the desk, Sam glanced at the papers in the basket, seeing more info about the same medication. She'd look more thoroughly, later. This had been a big step, she knew, and she didn't want Cat to feel overly-examined, especially having just been to the doctor.

Cat was now on the couch, flipping around until she settled on the shopping network and Sam suddenly realized exactly where everything in the storage unit had come from.

-

The next morning, Sam dropped her off at her appointment with Dr. Natarajan. This office was deeper into the city, just next to the USC campus. When they had realized where they were heading the night before, Sam had texted Jade, and apparently the two of them were supposed to get coffee or breakfast (second breakfast for Sam, probably) or something while Cat was at her appointment. Classes had recently started, but Cat imagined Jade had already settled into dorm life since she’d been so eager to move out on her own. She was pretty good at making herself comfortable in new situations, even if Cat knew her well enough to know that some of the confidence she carried was mere bluster.

As advised, she’d shown up to her appointment a little early, and filled out another clipboard’s worth of papers with a lot of the same information she’d given Dr. Russ. Cat wondered why this wasn’t just a part of her medical record since they were supposed to be communicating, but she dutifully filled it out anyway. Unlike Dr. Russ’s waiting room, which seemed to be just for him, this was a larger waiting room, apparently for a few different doctors. As such, it was plainer, and there were more people sitting around. But after filling out the paperwork, Cat didn’t have to wait long before a woman in a skirt suit with long, dark hair and a deep bronze complexion opened the door next to the receptionist’s desk and asked for, “Catarina?”

“It’s just Cat,” Cat replied, the standard response she’d given Dr. Russ and every teacher or other authority figure since she was a little girl.

“It’s nice to meet you, Cat. Follow me to my office,” she beckoned invitingly, and Cat followed her down to where the hallway turned, and the woman, Dr. Natarajan, she assumed, opened the last door along the wall. “Welcome to my corner office, very coveted. I get two windows instead of just one,” she gestured to her walls.

“It’s cozy,” Cat decided, and it was. It was similar in layout to Dr. Russ’s office (and most psychiatrists’ or therapists’ offices, in Cat’s experience), with the bookshelf, desk, couch, and easy chairs. Dr. Natarajan’s office had some colorful rugs on the institutional tiled floor, and had hung some photography images that reminded Cat of the kinds of pictures Jade took around the city, except more cheerful.

“Have a seat wherever you like,” Dr. Natarajan invited.

“Does anyone ever sit at the desk when you say that?” Cat asked.

She laughed, “Not yet, want to be the first?”

“No, that’s okay,” Cat replied, taking a seat at the couch, “I’d feel weird sitting in front of the Dr. Natarajan nameplate,” she gestured to it.

“Believe me, I do too,” Dr. Natarajan replied, sitting in one of the easy chairs next to the couch. “Please, call me Dr. Penny. Dr. Natarajan is my mother,” she smiled warmly.

“Okay,” Cat giggled.

“So, Cat,” she began, “As we’ve established, I’m Dr. Penny Natarajan, and I’m a USC-affiliated clinical psychologist. This means that alongside my work with patients like you, I also conduct and write research pertaining to psychopathology, so I always like to start by making sure you understand that everything you say in this room is confidential, unless you disclose anything that indicates that you might harm yourself or another person, in which case, I would need to intervene. In working together therapeutically, I’d like to meet weekly so we can discuss and monitor your progress, and I may ask you to do some homework sometimes.” She smiled disarmingly, “Nothing too difficult, I promise, but not everything we work on together will take place in this room, if that makes sense.”

“Okay,” Cat repeated, nodding in agreement.

“So I’d like to start off by asking you to tell me, in your own words, why you’re here today?” Dr. Penny invited.

Cat took a deep breath. “Well,” she began, the thoughts already rushing through her mind, “It started when I went to Pho-enix with my friend Dice--he’s my neighbor, he’s thirteen--for a hair modeling photoshoot. And there was this boy who I thought was wearing a wig and it was making me mad because everyone was fawning over his hair and I was sure that it was fake and it wasn’t fair because Dice had beautiful hair and he was supposed to be on the cover of the magazine and it seemed like the other boy was cheating. Next thing I knew, I attacked him trying to take off his wig but instead…” here Cat hesitated, because it _still_ didn’t feel real in her memories, “I’d torn out his hair. So I got arrested, but then they took me to the Pho-enix General Hospital psychiatric ward. I stayed there for three weeks and I talked to Dr. Greene while I was there, and she was very nice, and they took me off of my old medication and put me on a new one. And then I came home, and I met with Dr. Russ because he was recommended by Dr. Greene, and we talked about my medicine and he gave me a new prescription and then he gave me a referral to you and now here I am.”

Dr. Penny nodded along to Cat’s retelling of events. “It sounds like the event in Phoenix upsets you,” she observed.

Cat nodded, “It does. Because it doesn’t feel like me. Dr. Greene told me I had a...psychotic episode.” It was one of the first times she’d said it aloud. “And that was scary to me, so it’s why I stayed in Pho-enix for three weeks.”

“You have an interesting pronunciation of Phoenix,” Dr. Penny observed.

“What, Pho-enix?” Cat shrugged, “I know it’s not how most people pronounce it, but I like to say it that way. I just like when word spellings make sense.”

“That’s interesting. Do you have your own ways of saying other things that are different from the way other people might say them?”

Cat remembered a similar question from Dr. Russ from the day before. “Yeah. I, uh. I told Dr. Russ that when I’m talking about...fainting, I usually say that I go non-conscious. I just like it better because it sounds more like something I can’t help.”

“That makes sense to me,” Dr. Penny nodded. “So you came back home from Phoenix after being hospitalized for three weeks. What was that like?”

“It was...really good,” Cat said. “My Nona came to meet me in Pho-enix and we flew back together.”

“And your Nona is?”

“My grandmother. _Nonna_ is Italian for grandmother,” Cat explained.

“Got it,” Dr. Penny nodded. “Is she your closest relative?”

“I...sort of,” Cat fidgeted in her seat. “She lives closest to me,” she offered as an explanation, even though she knew that’s not what Dr. Penny was asking.

“Do you live by yourself?”

“No, I live with Sam.” She felt her face spread into a smile as she thought about her, and, anticipating Dr. Penny’s next question, she said, “She’s my best friend.”

“It’s just you two?” Dr. Penny asked, “Please don’t think I’m judging, I’m just trying to get a sense of who is supportive in your life.”

“It’s just us,” Cat confirmed, “But my Nona lives in the retirement community a few blocks away, so she’s always around if I need her.”

“What about other friends or family you can count on?”

“Well, Dice, the friend I told you about, lives in the same apartment complex, and our friend Goomer. He’s an adult, sort of. Tori and Jade are my friends from high school, and we’re close. My friend Robbie is going to start school with me next semester. I have some other friends, too.” She was thinking of Beck, and Andre, and even Trina, all of whom hadn’t been as present through all of this, but who she knew would be supportive if she called on them for anything.

“How about family?” Dr. Penny pressed.

Cat shrugged, “My parents moved to Idaho with my brother when I was finishing my junior year of high school. Gio--my brother--has a lot of issues.” She went quiet for a moment, but there wasn’t a follow-up question from Dr. Penny yet. Cat wanted to fill the silence, so she continued, “He has schizophrenia and...I think something else, too? Because even when his medication works it’s hard for him to stay on it and keep jobs and stuff. So...they’re there, with him. Because he needs them.”

“Do you need them?” Dr. Penny asked. Her tone was softer, slightly less clinical, but not pitying. Still, something about it made Cat want to cry a little.

“I don’t know,” Cat replied quietly. She blinked rapidly, trying not to cry, not even really sure why she felt like crying. She knew there was probably more to say about her parents, but she couldn’t even think of _what_ , and her throat felt like it wasn’t going to cooperate if she wanted to talk, anyway.

The silence stretched, and this time it was Dr. Penny who filled it. “It sounds like you have a supportive network of friends alongside your Nona,” she offered the subject change.

Cat took it gratefully. “I really do. Sam is...she’s like... _more_ than a friend. Not like--it’s not like _that_ , even though I--what I mean is, she’s like _bigger_ than a best friend. Not in size, she’s kinda small like me, but…” Cat’s mouth was running circles around her brain and she managed to shut up, frustrated.

“She’s really important to you, isn’t she?” Penny asked.

Cat nodded, “Yeah,” she said quietly. She watched Dr. Penny, who looked at her with an open, inviting expression. “She’s really great. She’s making sure I get to my appointments and trying to keep the house in order so I don’t get stressed out even though sometimes cleaning things is soothing because sometimes staying busy feels good.” Dr. Penny nodded as she spoke, smiling at her description of Sam. “I...kind of have feelings for her,” Cat confessed. She’d _wanted_ to say it, wanted to express the very thing that kept her going for three weeks in Phoenix, but she hadn’t fully decided to do it when the words rushed out of her mouth.

But Dr. Penny didn’t look at all surprised. “Are feelings like this new for you?” she asked.

“No, not really. I mean, sort of. I kind of tend to get crushes on my friends. I don’t know. Like my friend Jade, I liked her for a long time when we were younger. But then she got a boyfriend, and I kind of let it go. She has a girlfriend now, though. But like, I wasn’t jealous or anything when that happened, I was just happy for them, because when she got together with Tori, that was when I kind of had a crush on my friend Robbie. And...I dunno. I liked him for a while, but then by the time he kissed me I was just...over it.” It was still hard to even explain to herself, but the idea of Robbie was more appealing than the reality. “But this thing with Sam...feels different.”

“Have you ever talked to Sam about your feelings?” Dr. Penny asked.

Cat shook her head. “No. I’ve had them for a while, but I was scared to, because we live together and I didn’t want to do anything that might make her want to leave. And now that I’m home and she’s being so supportive...it’s too big a risk.” Cat concluded, verbalizing the source of her longtime hesitation, the thing that had long made her hold her feelings inside her heart. It wasn’t an easy thing for her and she was sure her love spilled out in a thousand tiny ways. But if Sam hadn’t noticed, Cat wasn’t going to spell it out for her, especially not now.

Dr. Penny’s expression was sympathetic as she nodded. “I can certainly understand your hesitation, and you definitely don’t need to have a conversation you’re not ready for, especially as you’re still settling back into your life. But, consider that if she’s as good a friend as you say she is, you having feelings for her isn’t going to scare her off.”

Cat supposed Dr. Penny had a valid point about the possibility of scaring Sam off, but she’d also supported Cat’s hesitation, so Cat figured she was right not to do anything about it right now. “Yeah,” was all she said. She wondered, too, if these feelings were going to fade away like all the other ones. If one day, maybe she’d kiss Sam, and, like what happened with Robbie, if it would suddenly not be what she wanted.

But that _really_ didn’t seem likely. Because even the mere thought of kissing Sam made her feel like she’d swallowed a swarm of butterflies.

Cat shifted on the sofa. This wasn’t the appropriate time to be thinking about _that_.

She and Dr. Penny talked for a little while longer, and toward the end of their session, Dr. Penny said, “Well, Cat, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. If you’d like to continue seeing me, I think that we could work well together, along with Dr. Russ, to really help you. But I won’t take it personally if you’d like to see someone else,” she said warmly.

“I’d like to keep seeing you,” Cat replied. It wasn’t even a question. She knew she was lucky to have found two doctors she liked so quickly, especially when she remembered all the doctors Gio had burned through, and the ones she saw briefly when she was younger that she hadn’t trusted at all. But Dr. Penny was kind, and Cat felt that she listened to her and was interested in what she had to say. Not a lot of people made her feel like that.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Dr. Penny’s smile was big, genuine. She got up and went over to her desk and quickly wrote something on a slip of paper. “Now, like I said, I think we should meet weekly. So take this to the receptionist, and they can get you set up for your next appointment.”

“Okay,” Cat nodded.

“Do you like to shake hands?” Dr. Penny asked, offering hers.

“Not really,” Cat replied, “I prefer hugs, but...no offense, but I’ve never hugged one of my doctors before.”

Dr. Penny laughed, “Well, I can’t blame you. We’re not the cuddliest profession. So I’ll bid you goodbye, Cat. I hope you have a great day, and I’ll see you next week.”

“Bye, Dr. Penny,” Cat replied, heading down the hall and out the door to the waiting room, where she took her slip of paper up to the receptionist.

“Okay, Catarina,” the receptionist murmured, “Sorry, Cat,” she corrected, apparently noticing the note Dr. Penny had put on the slip. Cat liked that Dr. Penny had thought of that. “I have a weekly appointment slot available on Wednesdays at two pm. Does that work for you?”

“Um,” Cat realized she should have been more prepared for this, “Can I check with my ride real quick?”

“Of course,” she was assured.

She figured it would be quicker to call Sam, at this point, so she did. Her friend answered with a cheerful, “Hey, Cat. You all done?”

“Almost. I’m picking my appointment time. Do Wednesdays at two sound okay?”

“Hey, whenever you want,” Sam assured, “I’ll take you.”

“Yeah, but I want to make sure you’re not too bored. Check with Jade?”

“Huh. Good point,” Sam admitted, and Cat heard the muffled sound of voices for a moment, then Sam was back. “That works great, Jade has a break between classes then so we can get lunch or something while you’re at your appointments.”

“Kay kay,” Cat said. She lowered the phone to speak to the receptionist, who was still waiting, because Cat was lucky and there wasn’t a line. “Wednesdays at two sounds good,” she confirmed. The receptionist nodded, and then Cat spoke to Sam, “I’m almost done. Text me where you are?”

“You sure you don’t want me to meet you?” Sam asked.

Cat was touched that Sam even offered, considering the sounds in the background told her they were likely somewhere that served food. “No, it’s okay, I’ll come find you.”

“Okay, I’ll text you.”

They said goodbye, and the receptionist gave Cat a little business card with Dr. Penny’s information on it, including an emergency phone number she could also text, and her appointment time written on the back. Then, Cat began to make her way to the nearby PearMaps location Sam had sent her.

The late morning sun was warm and bright, and even such a surface-level conversation with Dr. Penny seemed to have lifted something in Cat. She was in a really good mood, and she took in the area as if seeing it for the first time. And she sort of was, aside from the glimpse of it she got passing by on Sam’s motorcycle earlier that morning.

Sam had sent her a location for a diner about two blocks down a street leading away from the main USC campus with a lot of shops and young people carrying messenger bags hurrying along. Cat took in the grand-looking sand colored university buildings, the palm trees growing up out of concrete, the bright blue sky. It wasn’t a particularly striking area of town, but Cat was happy to be there, all the same.

She walked along, gazing at windows as she passed by. There was a convenience store with some flyers that Cat stopped to take a look at, for everything from missing animals to a band looking for a drummer to tryouts for a short film. Some of them reminded her of flyers she’d see posted at Hollywood Arts, and it made her nostalgic, made her wish she was in school, even though she knew she wasn’t ready. She meandered along, passing a parking garage on the other side of the street and what looked like apartments next to her, but then the building at the start of the next block caught her eye.

It was a little stationery store, and Cat’s attention was caught by a pink journal with a unicorn on the cover in the window display. Without thinking, she pushed her way into the shop.

It was quiet inside, but then, the hours on the door told Cat they’d just opened. A woman stocking something further back in the store greeted Cat, who smiled and said hello, but she was left alone to browse, which she enjoyed. There were greeting cards with beautiful paintings on them, special paper in all sorts of colors that felt delightfully textured under Cat’s fingers, stamps and folders and calendars and all sorts of little ways to keep organized that Cat was delighted to look through. She was examining a wall of stickers when her phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out and answered it, “Hi, Sam.”

“Hey,” Sam’s voice was in her ear, “Did you get lost?”

“Oh, no, I just stepped into a store for a minute.”

There was a brief pause, then, “Oh, okay. I was just a little worried, because it’s been like twenty minutes since you said you were coming from the doctor’s office.”

Cat was a little bit floored. She couldn’t understand where time had gone. “Really? Sorry, I’ll come meet you right now.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Sam said, “Jade and I are done anyway, we already left the diner. Where are you? We’ll come to you.”

“I’m at the stationery store on the corner,” Cat stood on her toes to try to see the front door over the shelves she was looking at, but it was futile. “Didn’t catch the name.”

“We’ll find it,” Sam assured her as they hung up.

And sure enough, only a minute or so later, Cat heard the chime of the door being opened and the quiet greeting from the woman working, and Jade and Sam’s quiet replies. There was something soothing about the shop, and while she’d expected Sam to call for her, instead she poked her head around the shelf and spotted Cat, grinning. “Hey, there you are.”

“Here I am,” Cat confirmed.

Jade was right behind Sam, but she merely waved briefly at Cat. Her attention had already been drawn to a display of embossers. It made sense to Cat, who remembered the time Jade had bought a sealing wax kit for a short film. Jade seemed to like a certain old-fashioned aesthetic in some things.

Sam, though, came over to Cat, “Whatcha looking at?” she asked.

“Stickers,” Cat shrugged, “But that unicorn journal in the window is what brought me in here.”

Sam nodded, looking around, and breathing in, “It’s got that fresh paper smell,” she observed.

“They have pens and colored pencils and stuff in the next aisle,” Cat told her.

“Really?” Sam was already moving in that direction. Cat followed, watching as Sam tested out a fancy ballpoint pen that was on display, nodding in satisfaction.

They browsed for a few more minutes before Jade joined them in their aisle. “Shit. I have class at noon, and I’ve still got to run back to my dorm.” Jade said.

“We’re right behind you,” Sam replied, turning to Cat, “You want to get anything?”

Cat considered. She remembered what Dr. Penny had said about _homework_ , and though she had no idea what that might entail (she’d never seen a therapist for long enough to have therapy homework before), she knew homework usually involved writing and folders and notebooks. She thought about how she wasn’t starting school, how she always liked getting new school supplies each year, how she was sure she had some folders and notebooks at home already but that new school supplies used to make every year feel like a fresh start. How maybe this, too, was something of a new beginning.

So Cat picked up the unicorn journal and a pink folder, and Sam bought it for her along with a fancy pen. While Sam paid, Cat waited next to Jade. “How’s dorm life?” she asked her. Jade’s choice to live in the dorms was interesting, but Cat could identify with the desire for freedom, to live away from parents. Jade’s mom had always been nice to her, but she knew they didn’t necessarily get along.

Jade shrugged, expression stoic. “It’s fine, I guess. I think I might scare my roommate. She flinches every time she looks at my poster of _The Scissoring_.”

“You? Scary?” Cat teased. Jade smirked and rolled her eyes.

Once Sam had paid, she and Cat followed Jade outside and hugged her goodbye (well, Cat did, anyway) and watched as she hurried down the street back toward campus, all dark colors amidst the pale blues and beiges of the neighborhood.

“Ready to head home?” Sam asked, turning them in the opposite direction.

“Yeah,” Cat slipped her hand into Sam’s arm, her breath catching slightly at the closeness of her. She remembered therapy, the vivid excitement that the thought of kissing her had awakened all through Cat’s body. She took a deep breath, setting aside the feelings to deal with later. “What did you and Jade do?”

“Had pancakes and eggs at this little diner down there,” Sam pointed further down the block. “Pretty good, too.” She scrutinized Cat, “Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Not too hungry to wait until we get home.” She thought about what was in the refrigerator. “I’ve kind of wanted to try to make a meat pie.”

“A _meat pie_?” Sam groaned enviously.

“You’re going to want some, aren’t you?”

“You know me so well.”

-

It was Saturday morning, which meant that as Carly woke up at her usual time of somewhere around 8:30, it was with a sense of eagerness, because Saturday mornings meant a Sam call.

Carly started her morning like most others, by showering and dressing, because even if she usually functioned quite well in the morning, it was good to give herself some time to herself to mentally assess and prepare for her day. Following a routine was good for that, too. Carly liked structure. Being able to give that to herself was probably what had made living with Spencer for a long as she had even possible. Even though most of the life lessons she’d learned from her brother were much more about what _not_ to do than what _to_ do, she loved and missed him, and ultimately thought they’d learned to function fairly well as a family.

After she was clean and dressed, the next part of her routine involved coffee and breakfast. She carried her PearBook out to the kitchen of her little flat (okay, _maybe_ it was technically her father’s, but it wasn’t as if he was here that often) and opened it, letting it wake up while she fine ground her coffee beans and got her moka pot on the stove to heat to make her espresso. She checked her email while the water in her moka pot boiled and her milk heated up, munching on a _brioche_ breakfast pastry. By the time she’d frothed her milk with her hand frother, her espresso was ready, and moments later, she had a hand-brewed cappuccino in her hands and half a _brioche_ on a plate in front of her. (Yeah, Italy had definitely rubbed off on her.)

Just in time to open her video PearChat app and accept a call from Sam.

Her screen showed her Sam sitting in the little dining room table she had in her apartment that reminded Carly of a restaurant booth. The glimpses she’d gotten of Sam’s apartment over time fascinated her. She’d heard the story behind its rather unique furnishings and had to admit it seemed pretty cool, if a bit of a surprising place for Sam to end up living. Her own flat was relatively basic--utilitarian and practical--and though it had a lot of old world charm, it was small, didn’t have enough outlets, and wasn’t exactly _hers_. Sometimes it felt more like she was squatting in someone else’s home, while Sam seemed to be creating her own.

Carly didn’t begrudge her any of it. Sam deserved to live in a home she felt comfortable in, finally.

“Hey, Carls,” Sam greeted. She was holding a plate of cookies.

“Sam,” she smiled over the rim of her cappuccino cup before taking a sip. “What kind of cookies are those?”

“Peanut butter fudge chunk,” Sam managed around another mouthful. She set the cookies aside, and Carly could hear her push the plate across the table, away from herself. “Cat made them,” she explained.

“Sounds delicious,” Carly replied.

“They are,” Sam’s eyes longingly flicked over to where the plate was, now off camera. Carly was tempted to tell her to just eat them, but it was much easier to have a conversation that didn’t involve chewing food, and they both knew that. Carly slid what was left of her _brioche_ a little further away from herself as well.

“So what’s been going on with you?” Carly asked, taking in the sight of her. In contrast to many of their most recent calls, Sam appeared... _relaxed_ and happy.

“Not much. Kind of loving the fact that I don’t really have work or school, right now,” Sam admitted.

“I thought you said you and Cat were babysitting again.”

“We are, but it’s still only a couple of times a week while Cat figures out what she’s comfortable with. So it’s not that big of a deal.”

Well. Sam Puckett with nothing but free time on her hands couldn’t be a good thing. Carly knew her own need for routine in her life didn’t necessarily match her friend’s, but considering all the drama surrounding Sam trying to take care of the apartment while Cat was gone, Carly hoped she wasn’t falling back into old habits. “Sam, please tell me you’re not just lying on the couch watching TV all day.”

Sam shook her head, “Nah, it’s not like that. I mean, I _do_. So does Cat. But I’m not doing _nothing_ all day, either. I’ve been taking Cat to her appointments--I told you about that cool used book store near her psychiatrist’s office, I’m kind of excited to go back. And I’ve taken her to a couple of therapy appointments now, and I can hang out with Jade while she’s there.”

“Ah, yes. Your standing lunch date with my two-timing ex’s ex-alternate girlfriend’s girlfriend,” Carly teased.

Sam narrowed her eyes, but Carly knew she wasn’t actually angry, “Okay, I don’t know _why_ you and Cat both insist on the word _date_.”

“Because it makes you get all huffy and when you’re not actually mad it’s sort of funny?”

Sam rolled her eyes, unable to hide her grin. “Whatever. So I’ve been taking her to her appointments and stuff, so I’m relieved I have the time to do that for her, you know? And then we’ve also been dealing with her storage unit. I told you about that, right?”

“A little bit last week,” Carly answered, “Before you started off on that tangent to decide which Meat of the Month club you wanted to join. I still think you should just buy meat fresh when you can.”

“Just because that’s how _the Italians_ do it doesn’t mean everyone should,” Sam poked back. “But...Cat agrees with you and since she does the cooking, I have to listen to her. Anyway. Where was I?”

Not atypical for Sam to lose her train of thought in a conversation, but Carly had a sense that she was seeing a particularly unfocused Sam tonight. “The storage unit,” Carly reminded, taking another sip of her cappuccino.

“Right, yeah. So it’s full of a bunch of weird stuff Cat got on sale at one time or another. You ever see those ads for the Pajelehoocho, that like tv infomercial adult onesie thing? Well, she has a ton of those, and a bunch of batteries and stuff. She’s also got like, weird stuff, but at least not multiples of them. Like a snow-maker, a tennis ball freshener, a cat litter box that plays classical music...I don’t even know why she bought most of this stuff. I don’t think she ever owned a cat.”

“That’s...strange,” Carly offered. She’d heard a lot about Sam’s roommate over time, but every time she learned something new, there was another dimension to her quirks and oddities.

“Yeah. So we’ve been going there to go through some of it. The one-off stuff we just listed for sale online, but then Dice and I have been trying to move some of the things she bought in bulk. The other day we had to go through all of the batteries and find the ones that weren’t corroded, and Dice is working on finding a buyer for those. I’ve been trying to sell some of the Pajelehoochos, and you know, I can talk people into a lot of things, but this is a challenge.”

“So you _are_ working,” Carly observed.

“Sure, but, don’t let me think of it that way, or I won’t want to do it anymore,” Sam grinned.

“Of course,” Carly laughed. They fell quiet for a moment, and then Carly asked, “How are things going with you and Cat?” She asked because she wanted to know, but also because she knew that a lot of Sam’s focus was currently on her roommate anyway, and she wanted to invite her to talk about her.

Sam shrugged, looking away. “It’s fine,” she replied, “I mean, I’m still kind of trying to figure out what my role is here, you know? Like...if I’m too clean, it drives her nuts because she feels like she’s not doing anything, but then if I’m too messy, then I know that’s too much for her, right? So I’m just trying to focus on the stuff we agreed I’m supposed to do, like trash, and then help her out when she asks. And like, to not leave dirty dishes lying around. I leave them in the sink now,” Sam said proudly.

“Why not just put them in the dishwasher?” Carly asked. She was a little envious of Sam’s dishwasher. Her flat didn’t have one. Not that keeping up with her own dishes was _that_ hard, but still.

“Because if Cat has to rinse them and load them, she has something to do,” Sam explained.

So Sam had found some kind of middle ground that made her feel like she was helping out but not doing _everything_. It made sense to Carly. “You know, that’s actually kind of sweet,” she smiled.

Sam looked wounded, “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“How is that mean?” Carly laughed, “The way you look after Cat, the way you even just _talk_ about her...I can tell how much you care about her. That’s not a _bad_ thing.”

She let her words hang there, holding her breath for a moment. She had watched from afar the way that Sam had grown closer to her roommate, how _they’d_ grown closer, entangling their lives with their apartment and their babysitting business. At first, maybe Carly had been a little jealous. She didn’t let herself harbor any regrets about moving to Italy because it had been absolutely life-changing, but far more so than leaving Spencer, or Freddie, or _iCarly_ , saying goodbye to Sam had been the hardest part of all of it. It was clear that Sam had felt something similar, given that she’d left Seattle at basically the same time Carly had. And as well as they kept in touch, despite differences in time zone and continent, a literal ocean between them, distance and growing up had forced their friendship to change and adapt.

So maybe Carly had to struggle to adjust to the fact that she was no longer the first person Sam reached out to when she needed something, or even just with her most absurd thoughts. They were still close, she had no doubt that Sam cared about her just as much as she always had. But it was clear that Sam cared about Cat, too, at least as much, and, especially since she’d been put away in a mental hospital, Carly was starting to suspect that Sam’s feelings for her roommate might run deeper.

She waited, wondering if Sam might finally verbalize the thing Carly had been waiting for, but instead, Sam just spoke almost defensively, “I mean, of course I care about her, but you’ll always be my best friend, all right?”

“Well, I know _that_ ,” Carly tried not to roll her eyes. She took one more stab at trying to get Sam to talk about this. “It’s just...I don’t know. It’s kind of nice to see you be sweet to someone who isn’t me. It’s a good look on you.”

“Geez, what did I do to deserve two attacks in one night,” Sam grumbled through a reluctant smile, and then waved a hand at her computer screen. “Oh, yeah, I mean to show you, I’ve been doing some sketches I’m kind of really proud of. You know that motorcycle book I got? I started really sitting down trying to get the detail on my Sterling correct, and…” Sam was out of frame for a moment, though Carly could still hear her shuffling around. “Here, check it out,” Sam held up the motorcycle sketch in front of her computer camera.

Carly had to lean in to get the details, because pencil didn’t always translate well on PearBook cameras, but she hummed, impressed. “I’m envious,” she replied.

“Why, because you still can’t draw?” Sam teased, “How is that working out for you at your DIVA school?”

“It’s _digital_ media,” Carly raised her eyebrows, “So I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, you’re doing well in school, that’s not surprising,” Sam smirked, “But come on, tell me more about it, anything new and exciting happen that will make any kind of sense to me?”

In fact, something exciting _was_ happening with Carly, though it was still something she was trying to figure out the significance of. “There’s this...other student. Amandine, she’s French. She’s in her third year, and...I don’t know. As Italian as you think I am these days, everyone else reads me as American right away. Even if they don’t recognize me from _iCarly_. But she kinda won’t let me forget it. Not that _I_ ever forget it. But...it’s hard to explain, I guess,” Carly said, seeing that Sam was starting to look a little confused.

“Do I need to fly over there with a butter sock?” Sam asked.

“No, it’s nothing that bad,” Carly laughed, “Besides, you’re not allowed here, anyway. But it’s just…she’s _really_ good at everything, and of course I’m still learning, but she _frustrates_ me, but she’s also kind of really cool? So, maybe I’m making a friend or maybe an archnemesis, I’m not really sure.”

In fact, there was a little more to it than that, but if Sam wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was going on with Cat, maybe Carly was going to play this a little closer to the vest, too. This barrier, this threshold between them, the few secrets they kept from each other...maybe it existed for a reason, right now. Carly wasn’t going to push.

Sam was watching her closely, like she thought Carly was hiding something. Which, well, wasn’t entirely wrong, so Carly pushed on. “But otherwise, I’m just really excited about my classes and to really start learning new things!”

Sam’s expression shifted from pensive to amused, “I’m happy for you, kid. And if I need to defy the European Union to fight this Amandine chick, you just say the word.”

“I can fight my own battles, you know,” Carly offered a wry smile.

“Sure you can. But only one of us needs an arrest record,” Sam’s smile matched her own. She sighed. “I guess I should go to bed soon,” she said reluctantly, “Cat’s already asleep.”

“Well, I won’t keep you,” Carly said, “I should get started on my homework, anyway.”

“It’s _Saturday_ ,” Sam groaned, “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. DIVA school is serious business,” Carly replied dryly, “Good night, Sam.”

“Good morning, Carls,” Sam replied, then shook her head, “Homework. I swear to--” and the video call disconnected.

-

Cat was beginning to find the rhythm of her weeks, marked by her Wednesday therapy sessions with Dr. Penny, in which Sam and Jade had their weekly lunch dates--or that’s what Cat called them to tease her friends, anyway. The rest of her week could vary considerably, depending on whether they were babysitting, but Wednesdays were at least consistent.

The last two sessions she’d had with Dr. Penny felt sort of like Cat catching her up on her life, reiterating a lot of what she’d told Dr. Greene during their sessions in the hospital; one session was almost entirely about her brother, and what it was like growing up with Gio and starting to notice things like how he got so withdrawn and seemed so emotionless when he was in junior high, so much so that some days he barely acknowledged her. At first, her parents said he was just being a moody teenager, but eventually they decided he was depressed, and took him to his first psychiatrist. It wasn’t until he was about to start high school that his behavior started to get _really_ strange, and he would talk about things that weren’t happening with people who weren’t there (she vividly remembered him trying to convince her that the pizza guy had put a curse on him and that he needed to break the curse). Initially, Cat thought he was trying to make her laugh, until she realized just how _serious_ this was to him (she remembered the moment she abruptly stopped laughing when he was talking to her about the pizza guy, the earnest, naked _fear_ on his face), and she later realized these were his first psychotic episodes. And then began the cycles of medication, going off medication, getting hospitalized and balanced, only for the shit to hit the fan again before too long. Sometimes, it was scary, but her parents dealt with most of his more disturbing episodes.

Cat also told Dr. Penny about Hollywood Arts, about her friends, including more about Sam, and about what she was looking forward to when she started community college in the spring. And through it all, Dr. Penny listened, and asked Cat questions that made her think. Nothing was too hard to talk about yet, and she hadn’t been given any homework, but Cat enjoyed seeing Dr. Penny. Even if a lot of their time seemed to be them getting to know each other so far, Cat liked the way Dr. Penny listened attentively, and asked questions like, “Does mental illness preclude Gio from making up for ways he’s hurt people?” or “Do you think being in a performing arts school made you feel more or less heard than a traditional secondary school might have?”

It happened to be a Wednesday, after her third appointment with Dr. Penny, in which Cat woke up in the middle of the night to realize that Sam wasn’t across the room in her bed. Cat had been sleeping better for a week or so, finally, and needed fewer afternoon naps. Though, occasionally she’d still get wiped out in the afternoon for no real reason, not even tied to how well she was sleeping, and would have to sleep it off. Life was different on this new medication, but she was finding some sort of semblance of normalcy.

But Sam not being in bed when she woke up was uncommon. She sat up enough so that she could see the bathroom door from her bed, but it was open and Sam clearly wasn’t in there.

Sam was probably getting a snack. Cat waited a minute, but Sam didn’t come padding back into the room with a plastic container of leftover pasta or a pizza box in her hand, so, curiosity getting the best of her, Cat got out of bed and headed to the front of the apartment.

As she came down the hall, she realized that Sam was sitting on the couch, lit up by her computer screen in front of her. “Sam?” she asked quietly. No answer. Cat frowned, wondering why Sam was just sitting in the dark, and she reached to turn on the light.

As soon as the light came on, Sam’s head whipped around and she tugged an earbud out of her ear. Cat could see just enough of her screen to get a sense of motion. “Jesus, shit,” Sam cursed, looking wide-eyed at Cat.

“Sam? What’re you watching?” Cat asked, leaning to get a better look at her screen.

“Nothing!” Sam said hurriedly, lowering her laptop lid to hide the screen, “Uh, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” Cat replied, cheeks warming as the implication of everything hit her (as well as the glimpse of nude flesh she’d caught on Sam’s screen). “Sorry,” she mumbled, then, hesitantly, turned off the light and walked quickly down the hall and back to the bedroom.

-

Sam was pretty sure she was about to die of mortification. Being caught literally with her hand in her pants was humiliating enough (and not something she’d experienced before, so, a brand new kind of horror), but to have it be _Cat_ who caught her (though who else would it be?) just made everything worse. Not just because this was private, but because of how important Cat was to her. The last thing she needed was to freak her out.

Once Cat had left (after turning the light off, which just made Sam want to laugh in spite of everything), Sam lifted her computer lid, but the spell was broken. The continued moans sounding right in the ear that still wore an earbud as she tried to talk with Cat had lost their appeal, as did the scene playing out in front of her: what had been a really enjoyable pussy-eating scene between two gorgeous actresses. Sam clicked out of the (private browsing) window and closed her computer, leaving it and her earbuds on the workspace desk. Then she went over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands and, with no other reason to delay, she headed back to the bedroom.

She knew Cat wouldn’t be asleep again yet, but she entered as quietly as she could, anyway, turning the doorknob carefully as she closed the door and taking gentle steps to her bed. She climbed up onto her bed and slid under her covers, adjusting her head onto her pillows and trying to settle without moving around a whole lot.

Still, though, a glance at Cat’s bed told her Cat was very much awake, eyes open even if they weren’t looking directly at her. “So,” Cat said quietly in the dark of their bedroom, “Did you finish what you were doing?”

Sam exhaled a humorless, breathy laugh, turning onto her back. “No, not really.”

“Oh. Why not?” Cat sounded genuinely curious.

“Because that was embarrassing,” Sam replied sharply, though she tried to keep the edge out of her tone. “Kinda ruined the moment.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Cat replied quietly.

“It’s...whatever. It is what it is,” Sam managed, still staring at her ceiling, at the objects and paintings she’d placed above her bed. Her moment in the living room had certainly been ruined, but her lack of release was still making itself known in her body, and she could feel it with every beat of her heart.

“You know,” Cat began conversationally, though her voice was still subdued to match the tone of the silent apartment, “I hadn’t really thought _that_ much about it before, but...I have kind of wondered in passing when you might do that. I mean, we share a bedroom and everything. And we’re together a lot.”

 _Oh, okay_. So Cat really wanted to talk about this. Sam took a steadying breath. “Well,” she admitted, “I used to do it when you were at school.”

“You mean, when you were _supposed_ to be doing online school?” Cat asked pointedly.

“Hey, I graduated. Barely, but it counts.” If it weren’t for Carly helping her to stay organized, she probably wouldn’t have, honestly.

“You did,” Cat acknowledged, “while _apparently_ watching dirty videos during your classes.”

“It wasn’t always--uh,” Sam stopped herself. It was true that porn was usually her go-to when she wanted to get off, but she’d also come across some erotic stories in her time on the internet that worked for her (because a good story was basically a movie in your head and sometimes that movie was a porno, apparently). But since she got her own PearBook, and started having her first sexual experiences, she’d started to figure out what she really liked.

Sam supposed her tastes were pretty mainstream, honestly. In spite of the physicality of her connection with Freddie (the only thing about their relationship that had even remotely worked) and her ability to aesthetically appreciate some men, the thought of doing anything really beyond kissing with them was a turn-off. Women, however, were another matter. Sam had been with three women that she considered sexual partners, though some of it hadn’t amounted to much more than fully-clothed, awkward fumbling; she’d certainly never done anything to the extent of the video she was watching tonight, where both women were nude and going down on each other. But for as much exploration of porn as she’d done, she supposed what she liked could be summed up as: she wanted to watch scenes where the women genuinely seemed to be enjoying themselves. It didn’t need to be all that graphic or wild.

But Sam certainly didn’t need to tell Cat all of that. She wasn’t sure what Cat had been able to see of what she was watching, but she hoped she wasn’t about to be asked about her sexuality because...who cared? Sam liked what she liked and she’d never really cared to pick a label for it. But Cat had merely asked when she masturbated, which...okay. “Anyway, you were gone for almost a month, so...you know, I could do it whenever then. But after you graduated,” (the _before Arizona_ was implied, and she knew Cat would pick up on it) “and like...now, I either get up in the night like you saw, or I do it in the shower.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I never noticed you getting out of bed before.”

“Wait,” Sam realized something, “When do _you_ do it?”

“Why do you assume _I_ do it?” was Cat’s coy reply.

Sam knew most people would probably think Cat didn’t do this stuff, but she had a strong feeling that wasn’t the case. “ _Cat_.”

“I do it when you’re asleep.”

Sam propped up on an elbow to try and look over at Cat in the dim room. “What, you sneak out to the living room, too?”

“No.”

Cat wasn’t offering more detail, but Sam needed to know. “So...you stay in bed. And do it while I’m sleeping?” she ventured a guess.

“Yes.”

“ _Really_?”

“ _Yes_ , really.”

“ _How_?”

“Well, it’s not always easy when you’re snoring away over there, but I manage,” Cat replied almost primly.

“I don’t snore,” Sam protested. But all she could do was try to imagine how on earth Cat was getting away with masturbating only feet away from her in their bedroom. Which...she didn’t need to be thinking about when she’d already been left high and (not so) dry once tonight.

Cat laughed, “ _Oh_ , yes you do. Not always, but you _do_.”

“Whatever,” Sam muttered, turning onto her side.

They were quiet for a moment, then Cat said, “Well, now that I know...I won’t bother you if you go out there at night. Don’t worry.”

Sam forced an awkward laugh, “Well. Thanks for that, I guess.”

It was weird to have it out in the open, but she guessed it was kind of nice. She hadn’t even really talked about this much with Carly. It was with some relief that she settled back down in her bed and tried to go back to sleep. At least she was a lot less mortified after talking to Cat.

It did take awhile to go to sleep, though, with the way her mind kept churning over the notion of Cat getting off so close to her in the dark.

Maybe because she had trouble falling back to sleep, Sam slept late. Like, late for her, which meant that by the time she pushed her covers off and slid off her bed, she was pretty sure Cat had been awake for hours.

She ambled out into the hall, hearing a mechanical whirring sound in the air and smelling the sweet fragrance of maple syrup, and found Cat at the desk in the workspace nook across from the sliding glass doors to the patio. She had cleared almost everything off the desk and set up her sewing machine, and was hunched over it, working with something too small for Sam to make much sense of.

But she noticed Sam’s presence, and turned to her with a wide smile, “Good morning!” she chirped, “I made waffles for breakfast, there are some keeping warm in the oven.”

“Thanks,” grunted Sam, pausing to look again at the desk, “What’re you working on?” she asked.

“Oh! I’m making a sports coat, see?” She held up what was unmistakably a tiny suit jacket, though the arms were very long and angled strangely.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to fit me,” Sam drawled with a smirk.

Cat giggled, “No, silly, it’s for Mr. Longneck,” she gestured to the stuffed giraffe (the one who was regular giraffe colors, not purple) that was on the desk next to her.

Well, that explained the weird arms on the garment, too. “Oh, that makes sense.” Sam blinked at the scene in front of her and offered, “A jacket like that suits him,” before heading toward the kitchen for breakfast.

“Of course it does! It was your idea,” Cat replied happily.

Well, Sam didn’t know what _that_ meant. She poured herself a cup of coffee and turned off the oven. “It was my idea to make clothes for your stuffed animals?” she asked skeptically.

Cat nodded, picking up a binder next to her and opening it, “It was! See, when you drew me this picture of him at the Big and Tall Store, you put him in a little jacket!”

Sam smiled softly. She remembered that drawing now. But then she realized what, exactly, she was being shown. “Wait, what’s this binder?” she asked.

Cat looked a little pink, “It’s my Sam Book,” she replied.

“Your _what_?”

“I saved all the drawings you sent me when I was in Pho-enix,” Cat explained, “They were...they really helped me.”

Sam eyed the book of plastic-covered pages, recalling each of the animals she'd drawn and remembering how she'd spent time each day surveying the vast population of plush faces that stared at her from across the bedroom before settling on whichever one she planned to commemorate that day. It made sense that Cat had kept them, Sam just hadn't expected them to be so protected and preserved. Something about that kind of care left her feeling appreciated in a way she didn't know that she'd experienced before. Maybe she needed to walk away and eat something before she started getting too emotional over a few pictures she'd doodled.

But then she knew they were more than just doodles, both to her and to Cat.

Still. There were waffles, waiting to be eaten.

"I think Mr. Longneck's gonna like his new coat."

"Me, too," agreed Cat.

-

Cat continued to work on designing clothes for her stuffed animals based on Sam’s drawings. Aside from babysitting, attending therapy appointments, and taking care of the house, she felt like she didn’t have enough to do to fill her time and had been trying to find ways to feel productive and occupied so she wasn’t just alone in her own head. Her own thoughts didn’t used to be scary, but that was before she realized she couldn’t always trust her mind.

She’d been looking through her Sam Book that morning when inspiration had struck, when she noticed once again that Sam had put outfits on most of the animals she drew. This time, it felt significant, and Cat knew she wanted to recreate what she saw.

Her stuffed animals had long been a source of comfort for her, a vestige of her youth that had been familiar and safe, a source of imaginative play where she could always decide what happened. Maybe it was the new medication, or maybe just the reality of her life right now, but as much as she loved her stuffed animals, they didn’t represent comfort in the same way they used to (aside from Mr. Purple, who had accompanied her through her time in Phoenix). But Sam was the daily presence that made her feel safe, in a world of adult issues and scenarios. Putting a little bit of Sam on each animal felt like she was honoring them, and the language she and Sam had used to stay in touch while Cat was in the psychiatric ward.

Cat had finished the basic shape of Mr. Longneck’s suit jacket by the time Sam woke up, but there was still a lot of detail work to put into it: intricate design along the lapel, a tiny pocket with a tiny handkerchief sewn into it, spilling out elegantly, false buttons created with silvery thread along the breast of the jacket (maybe she could go buy some tiny real buttons for the next jacket she would make). Cat had made plenty of costume pieces in her time, for school and sometimes even for projects with Jade, and the basic principles were the same. The biggest difference in working with stuffed animals was that human-like clothes weren’t meant to be worn by them, so Cat had to make adjustments so that the clothes could actually fit on them. A discreet zipper running from just above the suit jacket’s vent on the back allowed the garment to expand enough for the sleeves to fit over Mr. Longneck’s arms.

While Cat worked on this, Sam ate her breakfast, and then pulled on her Pajelehoocho and went outside to work on her motorcycle. It amused Cat greatly that Sam treated the Pajelehoocho like a mechanic’s jumpsuit, but it made sense. With Sam’s hair up out of the way in a messy bun and the Pajelehoocho on, she was able to stay fairly clean when doing messy chores like motorcycle maintenance. It was the sort of innovation from Sam that Cat really liked, the way she tried to save herself future work, like having to shower again, by doing something that maybe looked silly in the moment.

Though she was working on her costumes, Cat stole several glances at Sam, who was apparently doing a detailed mechanic’s inspection that day, including lying on the ground on the patio to examine and poke around at...whatever was on the lower end of a motorcycle, because Cat sure didn’t know. But most of her attention was pretty focused on her work. She finished Mr. Longneck’s suit jacket and was just beginning to take measurements to sketch out a lab coat for Dr. Duckley when Sam finally came back in the house. She kicked off her boots and unzipped her Pajelehoocho, taking it off and wadding it up and walking it back to the bedroom (Cat assumed she just threw it in there, with how quickly she came back). She looked up from her sketch to watch as Sam, in the tank top and shorts she’d worn under the Pajelehoocho, strode into the kitchen, rubbing at her neck.

“You okay?” Cat asked, watching as Sam arched her neck from side to side as she scrubbed her hands at the sink then poured herself a glass of water.

“Yeah,” Sam replied, taking a long sip, “I don’t know, my neck just kind of aches. I guess from being on the ground out there.”

Cat frowned, “Is that the same side where you hurt your shoulder?” Sam had pulled her shoulder the other day when they were all working at the storage unit, probably from trying to prove she could lift as much as Goomer (Cat had to admit, she _could_ carry an impressive amount). Goomer and Dice had both offered to look at it for Sam, but she’d only let Cat massage the knot in her shoulder for a few minutes before they continued their work.

Sam’s brow furrowed and she rolled her shoulder, “I don’t know. Yeah, I guess it is. It’s still a little sore.”

Cat stood up from the desk workspace, “Go sit down, I’ll rub your neck for you.”

Sam finished her glass of water in a long pull and placed her glass in the sink before practically hurrying over to sit on the couch. She’d been pretty reluctant to accept a massage at the storage unit, but now she seemed eager enough. Cat came up behind her and placed her hands delicately on Sam’s shoulders, taking a brief moment to appreciate the warmth of her skin under Cat’s hands, the slope of her neck. Cat squeezed her shoulder carefully, searching the muscles of her shoulder at the base of her neck for tension or knots.

Tension and knots were about all she found. Sam was already groaning lightly at the contact. “Sam, no wonder you’re sore,” Cat commented, running her thumbs up Sam’s neck. And, yep, there was a definite knot on one side of her neck. “Hold on,” Cat turned to get the little tube of lotion she kept at the desk, squirting some onto her fingertips so she could keep rubbing at Sam’s neck, focusing both her thumbs on the knot in the muscle.

Cat continued massaging Sam’s neck and shoulders for a little while, enjoying the opportunity to be close to her, the way she made contented groans and sighs as Cat worked the tension out of her. Catching Sam last night doing...what she’d been doing in the living room hadn’t really changed anything between them, or so she thought, until she was giving her roommate a massage after she’d been working on her motorcycle. Cat felt like the very air between them was charged, like Sam’s skin beneath her hands held a heat that spread up her arms and to her chest. More than just the physicality of it, it felt very meaningful and satisfying to give Sam some sense of the comfort she’d clearly striven to give to Cat since she’d come home. Making Sam feel relaxed and happy made Cat feel happy, too.

Not that the touch they were sharing wasn’t stimulating and just as full of meaning to Cat. They’d touched in a million casual ways since they’d become roommates, walked arm in arm around the city, hugged or grabbed onto each other in vulnerable moments, but something about this was very different, more intense. Not quite erotic but...intimate. Like her old sleepovers with Jade but amplified so much more because this was _Sam_ , and everything with Sam filled her with so much emotion sometimes that she thought she might burst.

Though, maybe the intensity of it was just on her end, given the way it seemed that Sam was starting to fall asleep.

Cat coaxed her gently onto her side, and Sam mumbled gratefully, curling up on the couch with a deep sigh. Cat gazed down at her with a smile, at the peaceful expression on her face, and retreated to the kitchen to wash the excessive lotion off of her hands, opening the refrigerator to start planning something for dinner.

Sam must’ve merely dozed for a few minutes, because before long, she was getting up from the couch. “Gonna go take a shower,” she murmured.

Cat eyed her, “This is a strange time of day for a shower,” she observed.

“Shut up,” Sam replied, though without any bite behind it, face a little pink as she headed down the hall to the bedroom.

Cat couldn’t suppress her smirk, “Have fun!” she called, trying to keep the teasing out of her voice, “Maybe dinner will be ready by the time you’re done.”

Sam just hummed happily as she retreated to the bedroom.

Cat felt a warmth in her body as she cooked that had nothing to do with being in front of the stove.

-

It was the last Sunday of September and the weather had finally taken a shift away from the summer heat toward fall, though it wasn't that much of a change (and she was still getting used to the fact that Los Angeles weather was vastly different than Seattle). But it was enough that the idea of slipping on her leather jacket and helmet to take a lengthy motorcycle ride up toward through the Mojave Desert didn't sound like something that would leave her soaked in sweat. She'd been wanting to check out some of the shorter, more local routes before heading out toward Santa Barbara (which was a trip she wanted to offer to Cat, too, once she was ready for it).

Cat was working on a felt hat for Octopus Charlie when Sam said, "Gonna go out for a few hours. But I'll be back by dinner. Want me to pick anything up on the way home? Feels like it could be a Tubba Chicken kind of night." Even though Sam didn't exactly cook, she'd been assisting when Cat would let her and it was always an option for her to pick up something from any of their favorite spots.

There was a nod and a smile from Cat, though she was obviously trying to focus on some kind of detailing for the tiny hat. She did say, "Have fun and be safe!" as Sam grabbed her helmet and slid the glass patio door open.

Sam cut through Santa Monica to the 405 freeway, taking it up to the junction where it connected with Interstate 5, a freeway that ran all the way up the west coast to Seattle. It was weird (and kind of cool) to consider that she was on a road that connected directly between her current home and where she'd come from. She'd encountered a similar feeling when she'd taken her cross-country trip, before settling in California, that she'd follow a route or interstate through city after city, state after state, all connected by a line on a map. It was peaceful, she decided. Maybe some kind of biker zen or something. She thought she might bring it up to Harmony the next time Sam visited the little bookstore next to Cat's psychiatrist.

The I-5 split at another junction, toward a smaller freeway that led off toward the desert suburbs, cities just far enough away from Los Angeles to feel like a different part of the state, even though she hadn't even been driving for an hour. She exited the freeway onto an older highway, one that was supposed to be the original route that connected these formerly small towns to the big city. At first it was mostly strip malls, a Wanko's Warehouse, and car dealerships, but as she pushed further north, the suburban sprawl gave way to the Angeles National Forest. Compared to Seattle, where everything was green, lush, and usually damp from the rain, the winding canyon she rode through was clearly a very different climate with the scrub brush and scrappy looking trees. But it was still beautiful and the lull of the curves in the road kept her speed down enough that she was able to take it all in.

After about twenty minutes, the route spat her out on the other side of the small mountains, into an area with honest-to-goodness ranches. They didn't seem to be in full swing or anything, but there were more than a few horses. She even passed a couple of other bikers and they exchanged waves, something that always prompted a sense of belonging that Sam had really come to love since she'd taken to the road on her Sterling.

She followed the signs that pointed into town, taking her up over one final rise of the hills before revealing a view of the desert metropolis of the Antelope Valley that spread out in front of her as she rode back and forth down toward the valley floor. This area was fairly populated, though it was spread out even more than the San Fernando Valley, not really any tall buildings to speak of. It reminded her a little of the Midwest.

Once she was down on the surface streets, she pulled over to consult her PearPhone for a place to have some lunch, which led her to Superb Burger, a small short-order spot with a menu of fried food. In short, it was perfect. Sam parked her bike in the lot, ordered at the counter, then chose a seat near the window as she waited for her double cheeseburger and fries realizing she'd be taking Tubba Chicken home later and Cat would probably give her a concerned lecture about eating fast food for two meals in a day. It was cute that she worried about her like that.

There wasn't much room to consider too much more, because her food was ready and mostly all Sam could think about was demolishing the cheeseburger in front of her. But when she'd finished eating and crossed the street to the small building with Tumbleweed Coffee Company painted on the window, she found herself thinking more about Cat. Particularly how much Cat seemed to care about her well being.

The tiny coffee house apparently doubled as an art gallery with framed artwork displayed along the walls and Sam immediately took to looking at each piece as she waited for her caramel latte. Drawing and painting was something she'd always enjoyed, because it was a reliable cure for boredom (when she could focus enough to get started on it, anyway). She'd spent a lot of afternoons filling up sketchbooks (and notepads and the backs of homework assignments) with everything from vibrant cartoon characters to lifelike pencil drawings. Art was something she supposed she was good at, though it had always been a hobby. As she looked at the price tags associated with the artwork in the coffee house, she wondered if anyone would ever pay fifty bucks for something she'd painted.

"People buy these?" she asked the barista, nodding toward the artwork as she collected her latte.

"Usually," was the reply. The barista was older, like maybe she was actually the manager. Or even the owner. Come to think of it, there was only one other person working and it was a guy younger than Sam who was out watering the plants on the patio. "Was there one that you were specifically looking at?"

Sam shook her head. "No, I just...I guess I always wonder who ends up buying stuff other people make. I never feel like my work is something someone would pay money for." That had always been a curiosity to Sam, actually. When Spencer would make his sculptures, it always seemed like a big deal when a collector paid attention to them. It seemed like a huge gamble to try and make a living that way. Though, gambling was fun, too.

"Ah, so you're an artist."

Sam shrugged. "I guess."

The woman reached across the counter and picked up a flyer from a stack that was next to the register. "Next month we're doing an _Anything Goes_ collection. Anyone's welcome to submit a piece, as long as it meets the size requirements. We do that a few times a year."

"I don't know if I have anything," Sam began, eyes scanning the small paper that was now in her hand. But she was already considering how easy it might be to put something together. "I'll think about it," she decided, mostly to herself, but the barista nodded and smiled.

Sam settled into a chair on the patio, drinking down her latte as she checked her messages.  
  


**Hi!!! Hope you're having a good time! 😸😸**

  
Attached was a photo of Octopus Charlie wearing his new hat.

**  
Looking good, Charlie 🐙**

**About to get back on the road**

**See you at dinner 🍗**

**Okay! Be safe!!**

**😺😺**

  
She could always count on Cat to provide plenty of exclamation points and cat emojis.

Sam downed the rest of her coffee, then asked for the restroom key before finally crossing back over to the other side of the street and climbing back on the Sterling. She followed the path laid out on her GPS that led down the main street where the area quickly turned back into residential homes, then more desert. There was obviously more city-like stuff to the east, but she followed the road she was on, heading north until she came to a highway that would take her back to a different stretch of the I-5 where she could turn around and head back south toward Santa Monica.

The road back to the interstate was fairly unoccupied and Sam's thoughts drifted back to Cat. She knew there was something different about the way they interacted with each other, that they'd become close in the time they'd known each other, but that they'd also bonded so quickly even just on that first day they met. Which was probably due to the fact that Sam had literally saved Cat's life in that garbage truck. But, specifically, there was just something unique about Cat that Sam knew drew her in.

She was also aware that it was something more than just friendship. It was a reality she'd been aware of for a while, but it had really crystallized when Cat had been away in Arizona. Sam realized she didn't want to be existing so far away from her, she didn't like the idea of not knowing when she might see her next. She'd been smitten pretty much since that very first day, she'd just made a point of keeping it to herself. Lately, though, she'd considered what might happen if she said something.

But she also didn't want to screw up Cat's recovery and whatever she was working toward.

What they had, for now, was still really, really great. They had so much fun together, they'd learned how to function as roommates. Did she really need to ask for more?

Sam wasn't sure what the answer to that was. But she also decided that if ever it seemed like Cat was offering something beyond being just friends, she'd take it.

-

It was the first week of October, which meant the month of Halloween, which meant it was time for Cat to get serious about her costume for this year. Last year's _I Dream of Jeannie_ had been pretty great (though Sam's costume as Cat had really been perfect, even if Sam refused to do the voice) and she wanted something as good or even better. They were watching the VintageLand classic television channel, with Cat studying all the various characters of the old shows for inspiration.

Well, Cat was watching.

Sam was on her PearPhone, playing a game where she was flinging zombies into various obstacles.

Still, it was nice that Sam opted to sit with her, to hang out and keep Cat company. She did that fairly frequently, which was probably normal because they lived together. But then there were plenty of times when Sam was doing something she could have just as easily done in another room, but she'd choose to sit with Cat. There were times like now, while watching television. Or times like when Cat would be cooking or baking and, even though she insisted she didn't need any help, Sam would sit at the counter and tell her funny stories about stuff she'd done when she'd still lived in Seattle. And times like last month when Sam could tell Cat was restless in the apartment so she took her to the beach just to walk around with a metal detector they rented, looking for treasure in the sand (one earring, fifty-three cents in change, and a battery).

Sam was always looking out for her or wanting her to be happy. Cat's gaze drifted around the room at all the furniture and decorations that had come from the set of _That's a Drag!_. She'd barely known Sam a week when the stuff had shown up in the apartment. The memory of coming home that day filled Cat with a sudden warmth that made her head feel light and her heart flutter. She turned to look at Sam, who was focused on her game, eyes narrowed as she flicked her finger across the screen, zombie toss in progress.

"What?" she finally asked, her eyes pulling away from the phone to meet Cat's gaze on her.

In that moment, Cat simply acted, leaning forward and gently resting her hand on Sam's jaw as she pressed a kiss to her lips, long enough to make it clear that it wasn't a mistake or a friendly peck. This was a real kiss, one that expressed a specific feeling Cat had been keeping to herself for long enough. As if summoned by the kiss itself, Cat felt warmth flood her body, eagerness fill her chest, all manifestations of the expression of emotion within the brief press of her lips to Sam’s.

When she pulled back, Sam's lips ticked up into a confused half-smile. "What was that for?"

"Well," Cat knew what she felt but wasn't sure which words to use that would say more than she just had with her lips. Still, she tried. "I was just thinking about how you always make time for me and keep me safe and take care of things and don't like when I'm sad and...I think you love me."

Sam's half-smile grew into a full one that made Cat feel fluttery all over. "Yeah?" She took in a slow, deep breath that made her chest rise and fall before she said, "Based on that kiss, I have a pretty good feeling you must love me, too."

Cat nodded and she felt Sam's hand on hers, fingers locking together and then a light tug to pull her back in. Sam's lips were back on hers, another kiss shared between them, gentle fingers tracing her cheek. Sam’s lips were soft, her kisses careful but not hesitant, and Cat felt buoyed up by the reality of them, by the relief of their acknowledgement of what she instinctively knew had been present for a long time. She felt like they could do this all afternoon and tomorrow and the day after that.

Kissing Sam felt like a warm summer morning, comfortable and full of promise.

When they settled back down into their spots on the couch so Cat could finish her episode of _I Married My Mom_ , Sam's arm found its way around her as Cat cuddled up against her. She was pretty sure this was the happiest she'd been in a very, very long time. And, the last memory that sparked this kind of happiness in her was the day she'd come home from the hospital, when Sam had been waiting for her under that sign at the airport.

She loved Sam. Sam loved her. That was pretty great.

-

The thing about first kisses (and second kisses) is that they're followed by third and fourth and fifth kisses. By the time Cat's finally pulled herself up off the couch to make dinner, Sam had lost count of what number they were on, because they'd kept stealing kisses from each other all through Cat's old sitcom she'd been watching.

Sam's first First Kiss had been with her ex-boyfriend, way before he was ever her boyfriend. And, like Cat, Freddie had been a friend well before he'd been anything else, though, unlike Cat, it had taken him a while to even earn the friend title. When they'd dated, the kissing had, by far, been the best part about it, because when they were making out, they weren't talking and when they weren't talking, they weren't arguing. Which was probably why their relationship was ultimately so short-lived. If it hadn't been for Carly acting as boyfriend/girlfriend translator for part of it, it probably would have been even shorter.

But now, Sam was older, more experienced (she'd gained other make-out partners, and more, over time), and realized that maybe being an adult meant she didn't need her best friend to literally go on dates with her to manage the conversation. With Cat, she didn't need that kind of management since they were already actual friends. And it would be awkward if they'd been rooming together this whole time and not been able to hang out without someone assisting them.

Obviously, Cat was very different than Freddie. Or even Carly (not that Carly was an ex but...there had certainly been at least a one-sided interest in something more). Cat was...Cat.

Sam watched from her spot on the couch as Cat buzzed around the kitchen, setting out ingredients (it looked like meatloaf was on the menu for dinner, which was fine with Sam since a loaf was just a larger evolution of a ball) as she prepped to cook the meal. Deciding that she should contribute to the effort, Sam traded sitting on the couch for leaning across the kitchen island.

"Let me help with something," she demanded.

"You don't have to," Cat insisted.

"Come on. I can do stuff. I can chop or slice or shred or something."

Cat eyed the various food laid out across the counter. "Okay, you can cut the carrots." But as Sam reached for the bunch of carrots that rested on the large cutting board, Cat bopped at her hands with the wooden spoon she wielded. "Wash your hands, first!"

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled Sam, but she couldn't fight the smile on her face as she moved for the sink to wash up. Once she was up to Cat's sanitation standards, she sidled up next to her to begin slicing the carrots, but purposely edged too closely so her elbow kept bumping Cat.

"Hey, I'm working here," Cat giggled.

"Well, I'm the one with the big knife," Sam replied, but she stopped teasing long enough to do the prep task she'd been given. As soon as she was done, though, she laid the knife down and bumped her hip against Cat's.

Cat, meanwhile, literally had her hands full of ground beef and all the assorted ingredients of the meatloaf, so there was little retaliation she could offer beyond swinging her own hip back at Sam. They bumped back and forth a few times until Cat was finished mixing everything together. When she turned toward the sink to wash her hands, Sam maneuvered in front of her and leaned in to plant another kiss on Cat's lips, one that was returned but met with a light squeak. "I don't wanna get my meat hands all over you," Cat explained.

Sam shrugged, her own hands gently resting on Cat's hips. "I dunno, that sounds like it'd be pretty great." But she allowed Cat to pass by and clean up. "What else can I do?"

"Sit down and let me finish." Sam was about to complain that she was trying to help, but now it was Cat who moved in, unexpectedly, placing a kiss on her cheek. "I'm almost done, I promise."

"Fine," Sam groaned, with a smile. She parked herself on one of the counter stools and grabbed a piece of junk mail and a pen before doodling a picture of the little cat (which would be red if she were using anything other than blue ball point) in the cardigan and the little dog (which would be yellow if...) in the vest, nose-to-nose, with several little hearts surrounding them. It was cutesy and sweet and everything Sam insisted made her sick, but when it came to Cat, it was everything that made her happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Better Together_ by Jack Johnson.
> 
> **Next time on Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay):**
> 
> They were in the women’s clothing section, and Cat got distracted from Halloween costume planning by all the dresses. She was looking at a particular pink dress and wanted Jade’s opinion. “Hey, what do you think of this?” she asked Jade, who was browsing a nearby shelf.
> 
> “I think it would look really cute on you,” replied a male voice. Cat looked over in shock to realize the person she thought was Jade was actually a guy, probably close to her own age, wearing a black leather jacket. Oh, _that_ was why she’d thought it was Jade.
> 
> “Oh, thank you,” Cat replied, “I’m, uh--” she started trying to explain her mistake.
> 
> “You know,” he interrupted, taking her in with a deliberate gaze, “I’d love it if you wore something like that, maybe at dinner with me?”
> 
> Cat laughed nervously, “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that very much.”
> 
> His face changed; he was still leering, but a flash of something darker was in his eyes, “Your girlfriend?” he smirked incredulously.
> 
> Cat noticed Jade coming around the corner, stone-faced and alert. “Yeah,” Cat replied, “She can be pretty mean,” she added conversationally, “Especially to people who don’t respect me.”
> 
> Jade was standing next to her at this point, and the guy’s eyes flicked to her. “This your girlfriend?” he asked, his tone a little bit mocking.
> 
> “No,” Cat replied, seeing Jade look at her out of the corner of her eye, “She’s just a friend. But she’s pretty mean, too.”
> 
> “Damn right I am,” Jade replied, now looking back at the guy with that stoic expression of hers that made most people pee themselves.
> 
> Cat wasn’t most people, but it seemed this guy was, because he immediately backed off. “Didn’t mean anything by it,” he muttered, “Uh, have a great day,” he half-waved and then hurried away.
> 
> Cat giggled as he left, both a release of the nervous energy that lingered in her body and because it often amused her when Jade scared people. Jade, however, turned to look at her very pointedly. “So. Your girlfriend?”
> 
> “Yeah,” Cat replied simply, “Sam. You know her.”


	4. Discovery: Kiss full of color makes me wonder where you've always been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for **The Wolf Man** (1941)

Saturday night, Cat made chicken, and then the two of them ended up on the couch together, watching _Toilet Wars_. Luckily, it was the kind of ridiculous reality show in which paying full attention wasn’t strictly necessary, so stealing kisses--sometimes _a lot_ of kisses--characterized most of their evening together.

Kissing Cat was still so new that Sam sometimes scarcely could believe it was real. Each touch of Cat’s fingers against her cheek, each brush of her lips, each smile that spread over her face when they pulled apart to pretend they were paying attention to the manufactured drama of a plumbing reality show, everything still felt like a gift, something Sam needed to treasure. With Cat, however, every moment felt like that, especially after Arizona.

Before long, though, as they snuggled together on the couch, Sam began to notice that Cat was falling asleep. For a while, she continued to hold her, pressing her lips to her hair and letting the warmth of her settle in her heart. But eventually, Cat stirred and yawned.

“I guess I should go to bed,” Cat mumbled reluctantly.

“I’ll be up for a bit.” With relatively open schedules, they were falling into their own sleep patterns. Sam was typically, though not always, up a little later than Cat, but especially on Friday nights.

“It’s Carly night, huh?” Cat asked.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded.

Cat leaned in and pressed a lingering, sleepy kiss against her mouth, sighing as they pulled apart. “Okay. Have a good chat!”

Sam watched her move with slow, sleepy steps down the hall toward the bedroom, catching the way she glanced over her shoulder at Sam with a dimpled smile. Sam smiled back, and once Cat was around the corner, reached for her computer.

It was still a bit before midnight, but Sam was a little impatient to talk to Carly. With Cat getting ready for bed, there wasn’t a whole lot Sam had to do but wait for Carly to get online and be ready to talk. Waiting was always hard for her, particularly when she couldn’t know exactly how long she’d be stuck doing it. She thought about Cat in their bedroom, getting ready for bed. They’d been together all day, but she still kind of wanted to be with her. Aside from that first night Cat was home, they hadn’t snuggled in bed together, but Sam was starting to think she might really like that. She just didn’t know if it would be moving too fast for Cat. They’d kissed a lot in a few days, but always...sitting or standing.

The idea of kissing in bed made Sam’s stomach flutter in delight.

She must’ve gotten lost in her thoughts, because the incoming call from Carly broke her reverie. Sam accepted the call.

“Heyyyy,” Carly greeted, looking even more chipper for a Saturday morning than usual.

“Hey,” Sam replied with a grin. “What’s up with you?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Carly replied, raising her eyebrows. “You look...I don’t know. What’s going on?”

“Nah, you first,” Sam said, both because she was a _little_ nervous to have this conversation with Carly, and because she had a feeling that when she did finally tell Carly about what was happening between her and Cat, that it might dominate the conversation. “Why do you look like you’ve already had six cappuccinos?”

“This is my first one, thank you very much,” Carly refuted, holding up her tiny cup.

“Uh huh.”

“But...well.” Carly paused, putting down her cup and gazing at it for a long moment, before finally saying, “You remember when I told you about Amandine?”

“Your archnemesis?” Sam nodded.

Carly chuckled, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, well...about that. I don’t think _that’s_ where we’re heading.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Sam could guess. There were a lot of possible guesses. But she had a creeping feeling about exactly what Carly was about to tell her.

“I guess...and I don’t know if I just didn’t realize it at first, but...she’d been kind of...flirting with me?” Carly actually _blushed_ as she said it. “I mean, I’m like 95% sure that’s what’s happening now, we haven’t really said anything outright.”

“Are you flirting back?” Sam asked.

Carly nodded, lips twitching up in a smile, “It’s... _really_ exciting,” she confessed. “Like, she’s gorgeous, she has that _accent_ \--did I mention she’s French?--and I’m kind of definitely really into it,” Carly finished.

Sam stared, “Wow,” she managed. Even though she’d anticipated this was what Carly was going to tell her, she still needed a moment to process it.

“You seem surprised?” Carly ventured uncertainly.

“I mean, a _little_ , I guess,” Sam said, sorting through her thoughts. “You and I talked about a lot of stuff over the years, and you’ve never been shy about saying when a chick is attractive. I guess I just never thought it would be something you’d _act_ on.” Indeed, she and Carly had always talked about women very candidly. They’d even played games like _Fuck, Marry, Kill_ in which all the options were women and Carly had treated them with just as much playful gravitas as the male options. But as far as Sam knew, all of her crushes had been on guys.

“I’ll admit, for a while I thought that, too,” Carly replied, “But with Amandine...it’s different. Like I actually _want_ her in a way that’s new and kind of scary.”

Sam was still trying to figure out what to say to _that_ when abruptly Cat came down the hallway behind her. Sam turned to look, finding Cat in her candy pajamas, holding...a bone?

“ _This_ ,” Cat spoke almost accusingly, “Was in my bed. Wedged between the mattress and the wall, which I guess is why I didn’t notice for awhile.” She regarded Sam seriously, though the playful glint in her eyes told Sam she wasn’t really in trouble. “How did this get there?”

Sam avoided looking at Carly _and_ Cat as she answered. “I might’ve slept in your bed a few times when you were in Arizona.”

Cat looked unsurprised and put her hands on her hips. “You know there’s no food allowed in my bed.” She examined the chicken bone. “At least this is stripped _really_ clean.”

“She’s good at that,” Carly’s amused voice came from the laptop.

“Hi, Carly,” Cat waved, then turned to go.

“Hey,” Sam said, reaching over the back of the couch for her. She abruptly realized this would be much easier to tell Carly without words. “Come say goodnight,” she cajoled with a smirk.

Cat returned the look and came back to lean down to press a brief kiss to Sam’s lips, “Good night.”

“Night, Cat.” Sam watched her walk back to the bedroom before turning back to her laptop, feeling a little warm from being called out in front of her best friend. And from kissing in front of her, though, that didn’t make sense. She and Freddie had done that before. “Uh...sorry about that,” she said awkwardly.

“Uh huh,” Carly replied, “So _now_ are you ready to tell me what’s going on with you?” she teased.

“Yeah...it’s probably pretty obvious,” Sam started, to which Carly snorted to suppress a chuckle. “But...anyway, Cat and I are like...a thing.”

“No kidding,” Carly deadpanned.

“You _don’t_ sound surprised,” Sam observed.

“About you and Cat? No, not really,” Carly laughed, “It’s been obvious for awhile that you care about each other a lot.”

Sam could understand that. Carly was always really good at reading her, and it wasn’t as if she was necessarily _hiding_ anything. But there was still the complication of _women_ , in general. Sam had reasons for thinking about Carly’s interest (or, she’d assumed, lack of interest) in women when they were younger, and she wondered if Carly had ever picked up on anything like that with regard to Sam. “I mean, does the...girl part surprise you?” she ventured.

Carly tipped her head from side to side thoughtfully. “No, not really,” she repeated. “I guess even though you were pretty focused on guys in high school, it was something I sensed.” She grinned a little, “I mean, even you dating Freddie barely made sense, and he was the guy you were craziest about.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Sam grumbled.

“Still, it’s kind of wild that we’re both exploring this at the same time, isn’t it?” Carly observed, “I mean, is being with another girl new for Cat, too?”

Sam hesitated, not because of the question of Cat (they’d never directly talked about it, but she was pretty sure Cat had only dated guys before, and mostly casually), but because of Carly’s assumptions about her. “Yeah,” she said quickly, “It’s new for Cat, too.”

Carly, of course, picked up on her hesitation right away. “What? What aren’t you telling me?” she asked immediately.

“I...I mean, this isn’t _entirely_ new to me,” Sam confessed.

“Wait, really?” Carly leaned forward with interest, “You never told me this.”

“It never came up.”

“Well, it’s up _now_. So spill,” Carly demanded. “Who else have you dated?”

“I didn’t really... _date_ any other girls,” Sam started.

“Okay,” Carly nodded, taking that in, “So then you’ve kissed them?”

“...Yeah,” Sam confirmed.

“You’ve done more than kissed them,” Carly stated in realization.

“...Yeah,” Sam repeated.

“Okay, no more secrets, Sam Puckett. Tell me everything.”

Sam sighed, but in some ways, it was a relief to finally tell Carly all of this. “Okay, well. I guess, like...first...was Wendy.”

“Wait, Wendy? Like, _Wendy_ Wendy?” Carly asked incredulously. “ _When_?”

“...dy,” Sam finished with a grin, making them both laugh for a moment. “And, you know. Whenever. First it was just kissing, like, we were both playing around. But after Freddie, it was...more than kissing.”

“‘More than kissing’ how?” Carly pressed.

“Like making out, which led to touching, which led to...lower touching.” Sam waved a hand, “It was always like, under the bleachers at school, or in closets at house parties, or once in the bathroom of Groovy Smoothie. Never anywhere that was actually private. So like, all our clothes stayed on, but there was definitely...below the belt touching.”

“ _Sam_ ,” Carly uttered, sounding scandalized and a little impressed. “Again, _how_ did you not tell me this? You were fooling around with Wendy when we were like, what, fifteen? Sixteen?”

“More like sixteen,” Sam clarified. “And, I don’t know. It wasn’t a big deal. We weren’t actually dating, and I didn’t think she’d want you to know, either. It was always framed like...experimenting.”

“I guess your experiments got good results,” Carly’s lip quirked. She shook her head, “ _Wendy_. I still can’t believe it.”

Sam shrugged. “We just kept it between us. Seemed safer. I know you wouldn’t have told, but Freddie has a way of finding stuff out. And, like, I knew I didn’t want to date him again, but I still thought it might hurt him to find out I had a different makeout partner, you know, when making out was the only thing we did well.”

“That makes sense. And I’m not mad or anything,” Carly explained, “It’s just a surprise, is all. I get it.”

Sam hesitated. “There’s more.”

Carly’s eyebrows rose. “More?”

“Yeah. When I was riding my bike around the country, I spent some time in Tennessee.”

“Got in trouble in Tennessee, you mean.” Carly ribbed.

Sam chuckled, “Yeah, that was unrelated to this, though.” It was true that Sam had survived her cross-country trip by doing a lot of things that were technically illegal. She’d relied on a network of family members who weren’t in jail or connections of those who were to get by, make a little money, and move on. Tennessee had led her to an old buddy of her Uncle Carmine’s, who had a daughter about Sam’s age. “But, yeah, while I was there I had the briefest fling ever with this chick. Didn’t amount to much more than some really awkward groping. And then, I had to skip town, and that was that.”

“Okay…” Carly said slowly, “What else?” she asked, anticipating (correctly) that there was more.

“One more,” Sam replied. “This was like, last winter? Cat and I went to this cupcake shop because she ordered these President’s Day cupcakes. A bunch of Abe Lincoln faces on them. I don’t know, they were _really_ damn good.”

“Not sure I’d want to put Abe Lincoln in my mouth, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“You’d better, I know my cupcakes. These were better than _Fat Cakes_ ,” she said emphatically. Carly emitted an impressed hum. “Well, not _Canadian_ Fat Cakes,” Sam amended, “But American Fat Cakes for sure. So, anyway, turns out the chick working there was this girl who went to school with Cat. Meredith. She was kinda giving me the eye while making friendly talk with Cat, and then slipped me her phone number when she gave me the cupcakes.”

“Oooh,” Carly trilled with interest, “So did you call her?”

“I texted her,” Sam corrected, “She invited me to see a movie. All Cat could really tell me was that she was a nice girl, which, she _was_. She thought it was cool that we were going to hang out…” Sam wondered if she needed to clarify to Cat just _what_ happened when she and Meredith hung out. “Anyway, we got ice cream first, and she talked about how she was doing some new kind of self-improvement thing where she really _seized_ what she wanted, which I guess is why she asked me out? I don’t know. Anyway, we went to the movie, it was this kind of boring chick flick--”

“Ooh, which one?” Carly wanted to know.

Sam laughed, “Couldn’t tell you, I barely watched it. Because I guess another thing Meredith wanted was...in my pants.”

Carly’s eyes widened, “She _what_? In the _movie theater_?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, she just like...we were kissing a little and then she started unbuttoning my pants, asked me if I wanted it. I _did_ , so I just tried to hold onto my popcorn while she touched me.”

“ _Sam_ ,” Carly said again, eyes still wide as she stared. “ _In the movie theater_ ,” she repeated incredulously.

Sam was kind of enjoying finally being able to talk about some of this stuff. She even liked that it shocked Carly, a little, and since Carly wasn’t freaking out, she continued, “Uh huh. And, you know, I didn’t wanna be selfish so...I returned the favor.”

“Sorry, I’m still not over the part where you _had sex in a movie theater_ ,” Carly said again, then she reeled back suddenly. “Oh my god. You had sex. And never told me.”

“It was like...barely sex,” Sam mumbled defensively. “Like no one ever got naked.”

“But you...got there,” Carly said awkwardly, “Right?”

“I mean...yeah.” Sam considered all three of the people involved in each of these stories to be sexual partners, even though there hadn’t been any romance or anything beyond friendship with any of them (she and Meredith had parted thanking each other for a good time but hadn’t contacted each other since). And Carly had told her about the fooling around she’d done with the Italian guy she’d dated for a little bit...which, now that Sam thought about it, had pretty amounted to the same thing that she’d done with women.

But Carly wasn’t mad. Instead, she seemed...sad. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me. Like, I get why you didn’t when you were doing it with Wendy, but...still, I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Sam said. Yeah, it had been a little complicated, the thought of telling Carly what she got up to with women. But ever since her first kiss with Freddie, which she’d kept secret from Carly out of instinct, it had become easy to compartmentalize, to think about things that were purely physical as just for her, while romantic stuff was more worth sharing (at least, after she got over the part where she’d legitimately thought she’d lost her mind for liking Freddie). “I _wanted_ to tell you, but I wanted it to be worth telling. Like me with Cat...that’s worth telling.” Carly smiled at this, a soft smile, almost proud. “She’s...this is really big for me.” Sam finally said.

Carly’s smile widened, “I know it is. I can tell. I’m really happy for you both.”

“I’m happy for you,” Sam echoed, “You’d better get that girl.”

Carly grinned, wiggling her shoulders happily. “I think I just might.”

By the time they hung up and Sam headed back to the bedroom, walking in quietly and taking in the sight of Cat, peacefully asleep among her stuffed animals, she felt mostly relieved about her conversation with Carly. Though there was a lingering edge of awkwardness. Part of the reason she had been reluctant to say anything to her best friend about her interest in women was because she was concerned it would refocus the interactions in their friendship in a new way, and Carly would pick up on Sam’s interest in her. It was hard to even articulate exactly what that interest _was_ , in the absence of any kind of reciprocation, but until Cat came along, there was no one Sam had loved more. She’d have done anything for Carly. Still would.

Carly’s discovery of her own interest in women didn’t really complicate things, because whatever feelings Sam had for her were in the past now. She loved Cat, Carly was thousands of miles away. Even if Carly _did_ return any of the feelings Sam once had, they were moot, unactionable.

That didn’t mean Sam wasn’t a little disappointed to discover that in all the years of loving Carly, she’d never awoken anything in her friend like what Amandine could.

-

The Funday excursion turned out to be just Cat and Jade, since Tori evidently had some kind of school group project that could only meet that day, and Sam was with Dice trying to land a sale of multiple Pajelehoochos with some weird modern dance troupe. Luckily, Jade was willing to take a drive out to Wanko’s to check out Halloween stuff. Jade had long claimed to hate Halloween, but Wanko’s had a lot more to offer than just seasonal decorations, and even if the Halloween section had a lot of corny stuff, Cat had the whole store to use as costume inspiration. Besides, Jade was probably going to end up dressing up in some cutesy couples costume with Tori and attending a Halloween party together, so any of her gripes about Halloween could be pretty easily extinguished by a kiss from her girlfriend.

Cat wondered if she could get Sam to dress up in something coupley.

They checked out the Halloween section of Wanko’s first, with Jade scoffing at almost everything, and Cat picking out a couple of cute decorations she could use at home. But then they cruised around the store, checking out different aisles. She was still considering ideas. She thought about dressing up as Nancine from _I Married My Mom_ , but her unfortunate meeting with Mona Patterson the year before made that sound a lot less fun.

And Sam, who she’d texted with a few times, was no help. First it was _I can just dress up as you again, I already have everything I need for that_. Then it was _Whatever you want, I just want to eat a chili pumpkin_. In a way, it was nice that Sam was ultimately open to anything, but that meant Cat would be doing all the Halloween planning. Which, again, would be fine if she even had any _ideas_.

They were in the women’s clothing section, and Cat got distracted from Halloween costume planning by all the dresses. She was looking at a particular pink dress and wanted Jade’s opinion. “Hey, what do you think of this?” she asked Jade, who was browsing a nearby shelf.

“I think it would look really cute on you,” replied a male voice. Cat looked over in shock to realize the person she thought was Jade was actually a guy, probably close to her own age, wearing a black leather jacket. Oh, _that_ was why she’d thought it was Jade.

“Oh, thank you,” Cat replied, “I’m, uh--” she started trying to explain her mistake.

“You know,” he interrupted, taking her in with a deliberate gaze, “I’d love it if you wore something like that, maybe at dinner with me?”

Cat laughed nervously, “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that very much.”

His face changed; he was still leering, but a flash of something darker was in his eyes, “Your girlfriend?” he smirked incredulously.

Cat noticed Jade coming around the corner, stone-faced and alert. “Yeah,” Cat replied, “She can be pretty mean,” she added conversationally, “Especially to people who don’t respect me.”

Jade was standing next to her at this point, and the guy’s eyes flicked to her. “This your girlfriend?” he asked, his tone a little bit mocking.

“No,” Cat replied, seeing Jade look at her out of the corner of her eye, “She’s just a friend. But she’s pretty mean, too.”

“Damn right I am,” Jade replied, now looking back at the guy with that stoic expression of hers that made most people pee themselves.

Cat wasn’t most people, but it seemed this guy was, because he immediately backed off. “Didn’t mean anything by it,” he muttered, “Uh, have a great day,” he half-waved and then hurried away.

Cat giggled as he left, both a release of the nervous energy that lingered in her body and because it often amused her when Jade scared people. Jade, however, turned to look at her very pointedly. “So. Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Cat replied simply, “Sam. You know her.”

Jade sighed, “Yeah, obviously I know Sam, but I didn’t know she was your _girlfriend_. I thought I was going to have to come over there and play your girlfriend to get him to back off.”

“Well, you didn’t, and now you know,” Cat replied.

“Cat,” Jade started, sounding _very_ hesitant, “Does...Sam know she’s your girlfriend?”

Cat frowned at her, “Of course she does!”

“Okay, just checking,” Jade mumbled defensively, “I just...I mean, this isn’t unexpected, but I just didn’t know it had happened.”

Cat nodded, “Well, it did. It was really getting silly to pretend we _didn’t_ love each other.”

“Whoa, already using the l-word, huh?”

Cat’s brow furrowed, “I don’t know how Sam identifies, but I don’t know if I’m a lesbian either.”

“I meant love, Cat.”

“Oh. Well, yeah,” Cat shrugged. She knew, objectively, that it often took other couples some time to get there. But she and Sam weren’t like other people. _And you have the pills to prove it_ , she thought darkly.

Cat shook that thought away.

Jade slipped her phone back into her pocket and continued watching her curiously, but Cat remembered why she’d even accidentally started talking to the guy in the first place and held out the dress she’d been looking at. “What do you think of this?” she asked.

Jade scrutinized it briefly. “It’d be cute, for you,” she conceded. “But seriously, okay, who made the first move?”

“I did,” Cat replied simply, examining the dress, still considering. Maybe it’d be nice to have something new for herself.

“You did?” Jade sounded surprised, “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Why not?” Cat asked.

“You liked Robbie for ages and never did anything about it,” Jade folded her arms, head tilted as she watched Cat.

“It was more complicated with Robbie,” Cat explained. “With Sam it’s just...everything felt _right_. So I kissed her, because I already knew that she loved me and I loved her.”

“She’d already told you she loved you?” Jade’s eyebrows rose.

“No, but I knew.”

Jade shook her head, “Look, sorry for all the questions. This is just...I mean, like it said, it’s not a surprise you got together, but _how_ is a little unusual. Not that I have much room to talk,” she chuckled.

“What do you mean?” Cat asked.

“Just...Tori and I...didn’t exactly get together in a normal way, either.”

Cat knew what Jade meant. They thought they were being sneaky, but the two were stealing kisses for weeks before they officially dated, and even _then_ kept insisting it wasn’t serious when all they did was make moon eyes at each other. Cat knew that figuring out how you felt about someone was much harder for other couples, and she was grateful that this part, at least, was easy for her and Sam. “Who cares about what’s normal?” Cat asked, “You two are happy, and so are we. If anything, it took us awhile, too, because we both had feelings for a long time before we said anything. Long enough for them to become love.”

Jade nodded thoughtfully, “Makes sense, I guess. I’m happy for you guys.”

Cat’s phone buzzed. It was Sam.

**Jade is asking if we’re together?**

**I can tell her, right?**

“Jade!” Cat scolded.

“What?”

“You texted Sam?”

“Well, yeah, Cat! Kind of just want to know what’s happening. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt,” Jade replied, scowling defensively.

Cat deflated. Coming from Jade, that was practically a declaration of eternal friendship. She texted Sam back quickly ( _Yes, you can tell her_ ). But she did have something to say about Jade’s meddling, as well-intentioned as she knew it was. “I _can_ take my own chances with love. You know that, right?”

Jade’s brows were furrowed, and she sighed, but she said, “I know.” Jade’s phone buzzed, and she checked it, glancing up at Cat and nodding. “Okay,” she said.

“You believe me now?”

“It’s not that I didn’t _believe_ you,” Jade scoffed.

Jade’s protectiveness, in the moment, reminded her of Sam, and she was abruptly struck with inspiration. She texted Sam immediately.

**We should be Tori and Jade for Halloween**

“You still looking in this section?” Jade asked her.

“Yeah,” Cat replied, “I’m going to go look over there for a while,” Cat indicated the section where jackets and blazers hung.

“Okay, I’m going to go back to looking at bags back there,” Jade gestured to the aisle she’d been in before, “Let me know when you’re ready to move along.”

Cat’s phone buzzed as she headed over to look at blazers.

**Okay**

**But you should be Tori**

**I don’t know her that well and I don’t think I could pull it off**

Cat chuckled.

**I think you’d make a great Jade**

**Tori has a wig you can borrow**

_As if that wasn’t already the plan_ , Cat thought, shaking her head as she perused blazers.

When she and Jade finally went to check out, Jade commented, “That blazer looks like something Tori would wear.”

Cat giggled. “Does it?”

-

Monday started off like a Monday with a phone call from her mom, wanting to know if Sam could send her some cash for "a few things." Sam assumed that likely translated to a few bottles of booze or maybe a handful of good pills but her mother insisted it was for a new outfit for a job interview. Yeah, right. At least her mom had finally signed up for PearPay, so she could just send her a hundred bucks without having to do a wire transfer or any of that complicated shit she'd had to do since she was fourteen.

On Tuesday afternoon, Sam was doing basic maintenance on the Sterling (something she suddenly realized was never a chore, just something she knew she had to maintain if she wanted the bike to run well) when Cat called for her from the kitchen.

"What's up?" she called back, not taking her eyes off the work she was doing.

"Would you come help me with this salad?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam replied. But she at least wanted to clean the air filter before she wrapped up, so she removed it and thoroughly examined it before she began blasting it with compressed air, sending dust billowing out across the patio.

"Sam!" came Cat's voice, much closer than it had been in the kitchen.

"Yeah?" asked Sam, trying to avoid the cloud of dust she'd just created.

"You said you'd come help."

"I know, I just want to finish this real quick."

Cat's eyes narrowed slightly and then she shrugged. "Fine, whatever."

"Wait, what's whatever?" Sam was careful to replace the filter, but then she was wiping her hands on a rag and following after Cat through the open patio doors.

"I'll just make dinner. Go back to your motorcycle."

"I'm done with it, just let me wash up and I'll...do the salad or whatever." But as Sam scrubbed her hands in the sink, she noticed Cat still looked a little bummed out. "What?" she wasn't sure why she didn't just go start making the salad, she already knew the way Cat liked the tiny tomatoes cut in half and the carrots peeled into shreds. Instead she leaned against the sink and waited for Cat to say more.

"Nothing." Cat shrugged, again. "You just always ask to help with cooking and I'm trying to give you something to do."

"I don't ask because I need something to do, I ask so that I can help you so that you don't feel like you're doing everything."

"Well, it still feels like that when you drag yourself in here like I'm punishing you." Cat’s voice was verging into that histrionic tone it took on when she was irritated.

Sam huffed out a frustrated breath. "Do you want my help or not?"

One more shrug. That was enough for Sam to move the opposite direction of the salad fixings toward her jacket, which she grabbed and put on. "I'll be back later," she said, feeling like she'd been punched in the stomach. She rolled her bike off the patio, then hopped on and drove down the street, not really sure where to go. With no real plan and the realization that she'd just walked away from Cat, she circled the block, then pulled right back into her parking space, staying on her bike for a good few minutes before finally returning to the apartment.

Cat was sitting at the kitchen counter, looking like she wasn't doing anything in particular. "I didn't like that," she said, not sounding upset, just factual.

"Yeah, me neither." Sam shed her jacket and placed it on the back of the desk chair before shuffling her way over toward Cat. She placed her hand on the counter, palm up, offering it to Cat who, after a beat, laid her own hand right over it. "I'm sorry," Sam said, simply.

"I don't ever want you to feel like I'm forcing you to make a salad." Cat said it so emphatically that it made Sam smile at the mild absurdity of it.

“That’s not...I want to help you, but I guess I like it a lot better when it’s my idea to help instead of yours,” Sam admitted, realizing it in the moment.

Cat nodded, still looking at the counter. “It _is_ your idea, though. You told me to ask you for help when I need it.”

Sam didn’t know what to say to that, and sighed. “You’re right. I’m just--I’m not good at this stuff, okay?” she finally said. Being with Cat in a romantic sense was great in so many ways--her kisses made Sam feel the same way she did on a motorcycle, free and fierce and fueled with elation; even just her hand connecting with Sam’s right now as they talked was a reassuring warmth, evidence of care. Sometimes it felt like almost nothing had changed between them, that acknowledging their feelings meant everything stayed the same except that they kissed now.

But Sam was also beginning to realize that wasn’t strictly true. Being in love with someone and not knowing if they loved you back was familiar to her, and she knew how to live with uncertainty, how to find her own quiet ways to love someone at a distance. But _dating_ someone...Sam didn’t know how to do that. Dating Freddie had been a disaster. She’d let someone in and it had amounted to nothing. And if the same thing happened with Cat, Sam didn’t think she could handle that.

She tried to express some of that without revealing too much. “I don’t really know how to date someone if it doesn’t involve a lot of arguing, I guess,” she managed. She forced a laugh. “I’m just really out of my depth here, Cat. I’m sorry.”

“This is new for me, too,” Cat reminded her, finally looking up at her from the counter. “We’ve been friends long enough that we know how to make up after a fight, but...I don’t know. I also know that talking to Dr. Penny tomorrow will help me with this, too. Maybe you need somebody like that, someone you can talk to about this stuff.”

It was instinct to want to pull her hand away at the suggestion, but Sam suppressed it, squeezing Cat’s hand instead. “Nah, I’m okay if you’re okay. Come on, I can start slicing those tomatoes, let’s make dinner.”

Cat’s eyes lit up suddenly. “What if there were self-slicing tomatoes? Can you imagine?” she gushed, mood shifting back to her usual excitable perkiness.

Sam grinned, “Can there also be self-shredding carrots?”

Cat nodded, “All foods would be so excited to be eaten that they’d just prepare themselves!”

“Now that’s something I can definitely get behind,” Sam chuckled.

And just like that, they were back to normal, starting the dinner prep-work in the kitchen, bumping hips and stealing kisses as they did so.

Sometimes, it was _so easy_. Sam wondered why everything that had come so naturally to her when Cat first came home had to be complicated by a few kisses.

-

All the way to her appointment with Dr. Penny, Cat thrummed with an excitement that wasn’t just the thrill of holding onto Sam on the back of her motorcycle. She was excited to share the good news of her relationship with her therapist.

The second she was settled across from Dr. Penny, Cat's mind was reeling with where to begin for her therapy session, knowing she wanted to talk about Sam, but unsure where to start. So much had happened in a week.

"You've been smiling since I called you back here," noted Dr. Penny.

"I have?" Cat instinctively touched her face.

"I've picked up on the fact that you're often the smiley type, but I feel the need to point it out today."

"Well," Cat decided this was her cue to go ahead and lead today's session with, "I kissed Sam."

There was a light flash of expression across Dr. Penny's face, but she managed to not react beyond that. "And how did that go?"

"She kissed me back."

"And that's what you were hoping for, right? For your feelings to be returned?"

Cat nodded. "We knew right then that we love each other."

"That's...faster than what other people might experience."

"I know. But...we've known each other for a while. It's not like we just met."

"Even if you had, if that was what you two felt, then those are your feelings."

"Jade didn't believe me, at first," Cat said.

"That you and Sam love each other?"

"That Sam's my girlfriend." She reflected back on that day at Wanko's, recalling Jade's skeptical, furrowed brow as she asked _Does Sam know?_ as if Cat had somehow made it up.

"How does it make you feel when a friend questions what you're saying?" asked Dr. Penny.

Cat sighed. "I know why she second guessed it, because sometimes I do tend to exaggerate or make things up, maybe not as much lately, but I definitely had some incidents in high school..."

"But this specifically bothered you," observed Dr. Penny.

A nod from Cat. "Sometimes Sam seems too good to be real..." She thought maybe Dr. Penny would interject, but she just sat and listened. "Because she's the only person I know who doesn't ever make me feel stupid or...crazy." If Cat said something differently or made an observation that led most people to give her confused looks, Sam would just go with it. If Cat made a mistake about what something was called, Sam would just tell her the other word without making a big deal about it. It was like she and Sam spoke the exact same secret language. "Not that my friends do that stuff on purpose and they've all gotten better about it now that we're a little older, but I know they think I'm weird. But Jade loves creepy horror things and Tori's totally neurotic..." Cat shrugged. "So, we're all weird, really."

Dr. Penny nodded. "So Sam's acceptance of you is something you value."

"I just think she's great," Cat declared.

"There's that smile again." Dr. Penny observed. Cat giggled, ducking her head. “So, Sam knows how you feel about her, and she didn’t run away. How does that feel?”

“Good,” Cat replied simply. “ _Really_ good,” she elaborated. “Now that we’ve kissed, and talked, I don’t know what I was so scared of.”

“Hindsight has a way of clarifying things,” Dr. Penny replied.

“Yeah,” Cat replied. “Even...I mean, yesterday we had our first fight--like, as a couple. And now that it’s over, it’s hard to even understand why we were fighting.”

“Did you want to talk about it?” Dr. Penny asked.

“I guess so. I thought I would want to, but it doesn’t seem very important now. I guess we just got irritated with each other. I felt like she wasn’t listening to me, and like she wasn’t holding up her end of the bargain with household stuff. But she was just trying to finish something she was working on and I think I hurt her feelings. She left the house, like only for a minute, and then came back and we apologized, and talked it out, and felt better.”

“Sounds like you two know how to resolve arguments,” Dr. Penny supplied.

“I think so,” Cat agreed, “We fought a few times before any of this even happened but we’ve always been able to forgive each other and stay friends.”

“Maintaining your connection seems to be very important to you both. Do you think living together helped the two of you learn to communicate?”

“I think so,” Cat nodded. “I know that people in relationships fight sometimes. When Jade was dating Beck it happened a lot. It happens a lot less with Tori, but still happens. And my parents fight sometimes.” She hadn’t really meant to bring them up, but she didn’t have much else to say about them. “I guess I just feel like with Sam...I don’t know. I know things are really new, but I just think we’re going to figure things out as they come to us.”

“Sometimes that’s all you can really do,” Dr. Penny nodded, smiling.

-

After a few meetings at the diner near Cat's doctor, Jade and Sam decided to try a different spot, Donut Street, one block over. It was apparently famous for making breakfast sandwiches using doughnuts as the bun and Sam couldn't believe Jade had waited this long to tell her about it.

"Whoever came up with this is a genius," Sam mumbled through a mouthful of egg, bacon, and cheese sandwiched between the top and bottom of a maple bar.

Jade nodded. "Tori's mom told us about it, but I never knew it was this close to school."

"Okay, so Tori's mom...she does stuff with weed, right?"

"She makes edibles for the medical dispensaries."

"Do you guys ever get any?"

Jade shrugged. "Sometimes. Not that often. Like, when Tori turned eighteen, we tried these chocolates her mom made and basically ended up spending all night lying on the floor of her bedroom listening to _The Killers Greatest Hits_."

"Huh. I kinda thought maybe since you guys went to art school, you were regularly tripping out to create great works or something."

"Honestly, just being at Hollywood Arts felt like being high, a lot of the time."

"I could see that just from meeting that one teacher. Cyclone?"

"Sikowitz."

"Yeah. He was a trip."

"Tell me about it. I was in a bunch of shows he wrote."

"Still disappointed that you don't have a bunch of high school stoner stories for me."

"Nope. Just the one time Tori brought a weed cookie to detention."

"Wait, what?"

"Accidentally. She's not that cool." Jade rolled her eyes, but a light blush also settled across her face. "Anyway, that was the first time we ever kissed."

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere."

"There's nowhere to go. It was just the first time and then later we started dating."

"And now you're basically an old married couple," Sam finished.

"It hasn't even been two years."

"But you two are...Jade and Tori."

Jade smiled even though it seemed like maybe she was trying to stay cool. "Yeah, we are." She sipped her coffee. "But we're old news. I want to know all about Sam and Cat."

It was Sam's turn to blush, apparently. "I thought Cat told you, already."

"She said you're her girlfriend," Jade eyed Sam until she nodded. "And...that there seem to be some pretty intense mutual feelings."

"Yeah," Sam replied, not even trying to hide the way her lips pulled into a smile at the mere thought of her feelings for Cat.

"Shit, you're both in pretty deep," Jade realized, watching Sam.

"Cat's just...unlike anyone else."

"That much I know."

"And, we've already been living together really well for over a year. So, we know we get along."

"You know, that's one thing I'm kind of worried about with Tori," Jade admitted. "I love her, but I still don't know if I can live with her. I don't know if I can live with anyone, actually. Did I tell you my roommate requested a room change?"

Sam shook her head, finishing the last of her breakfast sandwich. "Nuh uh."

"Yeah, so she's out and this new girl, Vanessa, just moved in this week. She's like really hardcore Christian and she thinks I'm a witch." Jade drained the last of her coffee. "And that's cool with me, except that I can tell it scares her and if she’s afraid of witches, then she's definitely going to be freaked out by a bisexual one with a girlfriend."

"Ugh, this is why I don't want to ever go to college. I hate dealing with people." Sam absently wondered if she was supposed to be deciding on what to call her sexual orientation or whatever.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Cat.

**All done! 😸😸😸**

**K**

**Meet you by Papercuts**

**💗**

The stupid heart emojis that had been showing up in her texts from Cat lately always made Sam a little giddy. She replied with a gif of two puppies wrestling.

"Cat?" Jade asked, already wiping her hands and collecting her bag.

Sam nodded, shoving the last bite of Jade's sandwich in her mouth. "Yep."

They met up with Cat at the designated rendezvous point, which was officially the stationery store. As Cat bubbled with highlights from her session with Dr. Penny, Jade put up her hand as she stared at the display window of the shop.

"Sorry. Hold on. I need to buy something, really quick." She hurried into the shop, leaving Cat looking confused.

"What's that about?" Cat wondered.

Sam examined the new items in the window, which had been changed out since the last time she was there with new Halloween items. And then she saw it. A street sign that said BROOM PARKING ONLY with a little silhouette of a witch and a broom on it. "Oh, you know Jade. Just casually planning to use her enemy's weakness against them."

Cat nodded. "Makes sense."

-

The tone of her Saturday morning Sam call was already different from what Carly was expecting.

She’d already finished telling Sam about her school week, in which she and Amandine ended up working together on a project. Carly was almost positive that things were heating up, and not just in her imagination, but, as she’d learned from her boyfriend last year, flirting was sometimes harder when second languages were involved (of course, sometimes the result of that was flirting that was just plain _sexier_ , too). So, no matter how well Amandine spoke English or Carly spoke Italian (both of which were not even Amandine’s first language), there was a whole new vocabulary surrounding sex and romance that they both got to muddle through. And they’d _barely_ scratched the surface of it.

But they were certainly scratching that surface, together. Carly was pretty sure the only reason they hadn’t kissed yet was because they were trying to finish their project, forcing themselves to stay professional. But the project was almost finished…

Still, though Sam was clearly happy to talk to her, she wasn’t quite the same giddy, blushing person Carly had spoken with just last week. She seemed distracted. It was weird, because she and Cat hadn’t even been dating for two weeks. Shouldn’t she still be excited?

Carly knew she could get Sam to talk about what was bothering her, but she figured she’d give her the chance to open up first. “So,” she drawled once it was clear that Sam had half-tuned out the details about Carly’s school project, “How’s Cat?”

A full smile bloomed over Sam’s face, complete with a tinge of pink on her cheeks. _Ah, there it was_. Carly felt a smirk settle on her own face in reaction. Seeing Sam happy always did that to her. Sam finally replied, “She’s really good. She’s…” she shook her head and laughed, “God, she’s just amazing,” she gushed quietly.

“Awww,” Carly cooed, resting her chin on her hands as she gazed at Sam on her PearBook screen.

“I’m only letting that slide because it’s you,” Sam replied, narrowing her eyes. But she glanced away a moment later, her expression turning pensive again.

“Okay, what’s bugging you?” Carly asked, now satisfied that it wasn’t about Cat.

Sam sighed, “It’s just...been a weird week,” she replied. “My mom asked for money again.”

Carly nodded sympathetically. She’d been expecting something like this. “What did you say?”

“Nothing. I just sent it to her,” Sam twisted her mouth bitterly, “I know it can’t be like this _forever_ , but, she’s still my mom, you know? She did her best with me and I don’t want her to starve or anything.”

“Yeah,” Carly replied, though privately, she thought Sam would be better off just refusing to send money anymore. She knew it was never enough to break the bank--Sam wasn’t a fool and had certainly never disclosed to anyone in her family about the _iCarly_ royalties--but Carly had seen the pattern enough times to know that Sam felt frustrated and guilty no matter what happened during an interaction with her mom. Sending money was just the quickest way for it to be over with.

Sam waved a hand, “That’s not even the part that’s fucking with me, though, that’s just the icing on the cake.” But again, she fell silent.

“Sam,” Carly coaxed, “Talk to me.”

Sam stared at her keyboard, and then twisted on the couch to look behind her, as if checking that she was truly alone, then resumed avoiding Carly’s eyes. “Cat and I had a stupid fight and even though we made up, it made me really doubt that I can do this.”

Carly tried to decide what to ask first, but settled on the two most pressing questions. “What did you fight about? And do _what_?”

Sam shook her head, “It was stupid. She asked for my help. I dawdled. She got annoyed with me, I got irritated with her, so I left, but for only like, five minute, and then I came back, we apologized, and then we were good.”

“Okay,” Carly drawled, frowning. She knew well the way Sam and Freddie had fought during their brief relationship, and already it sounded like Sam was doing better. Apologies weren’t usually in her vocabulary. “So what are you worried about?”

“That I’m going to screw it up,” Sam replied bitterly, scrunching her mouth up and shrugging at her confession.

Oh no. That tell right there meant that Sam might cry. Carly didn’t know what she could do about that from across an ocean. “It was just one fight, and you guys made up,” Carly tried to be reasonable, “You guys have fought before, too, when you were just friends and you always made up. There was that whole week Cat was furious at you for taking that job with Peezy-B...still can’t believe you worked for him, by the way,” Carly forced a smile, trying to inject some levity into the moment.

Sam responded with a tight smile of her own. “Yeah, you’re right, but everything feels different now. Except sometimes _nothing_ feels different, too. But I just know that like, sure, Freddie and I always fought, but it got so much worse when we dated. Liking each other meant it was even harder to be in the same room together sometimes. And with Cat it’s already like... _big_ feelings, and that scares me, too.” She rubbed her forehead, but at least she didn’t look like she was about to cry anymore. “I just can’t screw this up, but I don’t even know what a good relationship _looks_ like. All I know how to do is fight and kiss,” she chuckled, but it was humorless.

Carly knew that her presence had played a major role in Sam’s relationship with Freddie. She’d been stuck between them, though not in a love triangle kind of way, but as their friend who knew them both well, who could smooth things over between them and help them understand one another. She couldn’t do that for Sam and Cat. She would always be a willing ear for Sam, but she sure didn’t have all the answers, either. “Maybe you should talk to someone,” she said hesitantly.

Sam shot her a confused look, “I’m literally talking to you right now.”

“No, I mean...like someone professional.” Sam looked wounded, so Carly was quick to say some of what she’d been thinking, “I will _always_ listen to you as a friend, but my advice is pretty limited. I don’t know the right things to say to help you. But a therapist or someone might.”

“Yeah, they’ve always been _so_ helpful before,” Sam scoffed.

Carly hated to even bring it up, because ultimately she wondered if this therapist had actually done Sam any favors, but she tried anyway. “That one you saw with your mom helped the two of you understand each other,” she pointed out.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed reluctantly, maybe having similar thoughts as Carly about that whole situation.

“And this would be someone just for you, anyway,” she added to soften the comparison.

“You know, Cat kinda said the same thing after we made up,” Sam said, sounding like she was considering the idea.

“Oh, so when Cat says it, you’ll listen?” Carly teased.

Sam laughed, “No, I totally blew her off, too. But when _both_ of you say it...I kind of have to listen.”

“Well, Cat and I have that in common, I guess,” Carly replied. Sam looked at her curiously, waiting for elaboration. “We both want you to be happy.”

Sam smiled at that. Carly didn’t know Cat all that well, but she figured that as long as they had Sam’s wellbeing in common, she was alright in Carly’s book.

-

On Saturday, she and Sam were scheduled to babysit Kim for several hours in the afternoon. Cat was sewing a tiny sundress for Mr. Porkstache (“he likes to show off his legs!” she explained to Sam when she’d seemed surprised by the choice) and had been hoping to have it finished before Kim arrived. She was still carefully attaching the final couple of snap buttons to the front of the garment (since the back was easier to see on Mr. Porkstache) when the doorbell rang, so Sam sighed heavily and heaved herself off the couch to answer the door.

Cat was focused enough on her work that she mostly tuned out whatever Mrs. Fimble said as she dropped her daughter off. She didn’t even really look up from what she was doing until Kim came over to her and greeted, “Hi, Cat!”

“Oh, hey, Kim!” Cat replied, finally looking up with a smile.

“What’re you doing?” Kim asked, holding her Fresno Girl Doll Gabriella to her chest as she gazed at Cat’s workspace.

“Well, do you know my friend Mr. Porkstache?” Cat asked, holding up the little stuffed pig.

Kim giggled, “I guess I do now!”

“I’m making him a sundress! See, it’s almost finished,” Cat said, holding it up.

“Oh, wow,” Kim leaned closer to look at the little dress, “I think it’s going to look great on him!”

“Me, too!” Cat agreed excitedly, offering the child a high five. Sam smiled at her from the kitchen, where she was pouring a glass of juice for each of them. Sam didn’t always take initiative on things like this during babysitting gigs, but Kim was a kid she actually seemed to like, in spite of the fact that she’d tricked them into buying her Gabriella in the first place. Or maybe because of that. Sam could appreciate a good scam, even if she were the target of it.

“Wait, so, you made that all by yourself?” Kim asked, sounding awed.

“Well, sure,” Cat replied, “I took Mr. Porkstache’s measurements and I found the fabric that I wanted, and I cut out what I needed and sewed it together! I’m really good at costumes.” It wasn’t really bragging, it was just a fact. Kids appreciated candor, Cat knew.

“That’s so cool!” Kim was wide-eyed, “Wait, hold on.” She turned away from Cat for a moment as she whispered in Gabriella’s ear, and held the doll up to whisper back at her. Cat caught Sam’s eye, who was standing at the kitchen island draining one of the glasses of juice and looking on with a smile. And then Kim said to Cat, “Gabriella wants to know if you can make her a Halloween costume! She wants to be a werewolf, but the Fresno Girl Doll store doesn’t carry any costumes like that because they’re too scary.”

“A werewolf! Gabriella would make a great werewolf,” Cat said enthusiastically. She remembered something abruptly. “One time I had a dream that my friend Tori was a werewolf.”

Sam chuckled from the kitchen, refilling her own glass of juice. “I could see that, actually.”

Another part of the dream came to her. “You were one, too!” she informed Sam.

Sam shrugged, “Also not that much of a stretch.” She emitted a growl that made Cat grin as she brought over two glasses of juice and handed one to Kim, then set the other one next to Cat at the desk.

“So does that mean you can do it?” Kim asked, “It would really mean a lot to Gabriella.”

“Well, sure, I don’t see--”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Sam interrupted, holding up her finger, “This isn’t free work. You have to pay us,” Sam informed Kim.

“I’m sure my mom will do it,” Kim assured them, “I actually _did_ get a B- on my first math quiz of the school year!”

“Wow, that’s great!” Cat replied enthusiastically. “Well, if you’re sure, why don’t I start taking Gabriella’s measurements right now?”

“Go sit down with your juice, I’ll bring you a snack in a minute,” Sam directed Kim, who passed her doll to Cat and went to sit in the dining nook. Sam turned to Cat, “Okay, how much does the fabric cost for something like this?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have any faux fur right now. I’d have to go shopping. I’d either have to buy it as a long pile or have them cut me a quarter of a yard of fabric,” she said thoughtfully.

“I don’t know what any of that means, just give me a number,” Sam urged.

“Maybe somewhere around ten dollars?” Cat guessed. “I probably already have enough fabric to work with for her shredded clothes. Depending on what she wants to wear as a werewolf.”

“So then, what, maybe twenty-five bucks for your supplies, all told?” Sam estimated.

Cat tilted her head thoughtfully, “Probably more like fifteen.”

“Fifteen then. How long would it take you to make it?”

“An evening, maybe.”

“Like six hours? Okay. Damn, do you think we could convince Mrs. Fimble to pay us seventy-five bucks for the costume?”

“That seems like a lot, and I don’t think it even would take that long.” Cat frowned. “I’d be fine just charging for my materials.”

Sam scoffed, “But you should be paid for your _time_ , babe.” The pet name fell from her lips so naturally that Cat couldn’t even respond for a moment, just grinned. She didn’t even think Sam had noticed because she continued with, “Because time you spend making that costume is time you’re _not_ spending with me.”

Sam had a good point, but, “We can’t charge a child seventy-five dollars for doll clothes,” Cat said firmly, “I would’ve loved something like this for my stuffed animals when I was little and I never would’ve been able to afford that.”

“Seventy-five dollars is nothing! We paid like two hundred to give Gabriella her hair and clothes,” Sam gestured wildly to the doll.

“Don’t forget her bike.”

“Yeah, yeah, the point is, the clothes for these dolls are _crazy_ overpriced, anyway.”

“It still doesn’t seem right,” Cat frowned. “Fifty dollars?” she suggested.

Sam waffled for a moment but then agreed, “Okay, fifty. Guess we can undercut the competition, even though they don’t have what Kim wants anyway. Mrs. Fimble saves money, Kim is happy. Win-win.”

“And we make money?” Cat asked.

“And we make money,” Sam confirmed, “Win-win-win.” She pressed a quick, discreet kiss to the side of her head before heading into the kitchen.

Cat made sure the snap buttons were secure on Mr. Porkstache’s sundress and examined it closely to check it over for loose threads or skipped stitches before putting it on the stuffed pig and taking him back to his place in her bedroom among the other animals. When she came back out, Kim and Sam were done with their snack, and Cat ended up showing Kim how she took Gabriella’s measurements and together they sat so Cat could sketch out what Kim wanted the costume to look like and show her some sample fabrics as options.

Working on something like this meant that the babysitting gig flew by, and when Mrs. Fimble came to pick up Kim, the child was so excited to tell her mother about Gabriella’s costume. “Come look, see?” Kim enthused, “Cat sketched it out for me, isn’t it going to look great?”

Mrs. Fimble looked impressed, “How wonderful! That’s so nice of you, Cat.”

“Yeah, Cat’s happy to do it,” Sam put in, “For a price.”

Mrs. Fimble regarded Sam uncertainly. “That’s reasonable. How much?”

“Fifty.”

Kim looked hopeful, but Mrs. Fimble just looked relieved. “I can do that. For an entire outfit, that’s a steal compared to everything else Gabriella owns.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam hiked her eyebrows meaningfully, and Mrs. Fimble had the decency to look chagrined.

“Yes, well, anyway, thank you so much.” Mrs. Fimble handed Sam the babysitting money. “Just let us know when the costume is ready.”

“Sure thing,” Cat replied happily. “Bye, Kim!”

“Bye, Cat! Bye, Sam!”

“Later, kid,” Sam closed the door behind them as they left and turned to Cat, regarding her thoughtfully.

“What?” Cat asked.

“If fifty bucks for a doll costume is a steal…” Sam began, “I’m realizing that we might be looking at an untapped market.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you _wanted_ to, you could make custom doll clothes and sell them online. They’d probably be cooler than anything at the Fresno Girl Doll store, and they’d be cheaper, since that place is completely outrageous. I guarantee moms like Mrs. Fimble would snatch them right up.”

“That’s an idea,” Cat replied thoughtfully. She had started to wonder how she was going to keep herself busy once she had dressed all of her stuffed animals. She wasn’t there yet, but eventually she would be.

“I mean, only if you want to, don’t think I’m going to make you,” Sam said quickly. She laughed, once. “I have to be careful, I turned a group of elementary schoolers into a sweatshop once.”

“You _what_?”

“It was sort of an accident! Besides, Carly and Freddie did it, too, thiers was just a ‘nicer’ sweatshop.”

Cat eyed her warily, “Good thing you’re my girlfriend and not my boss.”

Sam ducked her head, but not before Cat saw her smile and blush. “Good thing,” she agreed.

Soon, they were on the couch together, Cat tucked under Sam’s arm as an episode of _American Pipers_ played. It wasn’t a show either of them were particularly invested in, but there was nothing else on that they could agree on at the moment, and really, Cat just wanted to be close to Sam. That was mainly why they’d cuddle on the couch these days anyway, for the intimacy more than the television.

That, and the kissing.

Cat initiated the kissing before too long, lifting her head up from Sam’s shoulder. Sam turned her head expectantly, and Cat lifted her hand to Sam’s cheek as she connected their lips, softly, melting into Sam with the comfort and affection she’d come to associate with her. Sam turned more toward her on the couch, the arm that was around her shoulders wrapping around Cat’s back, keeping her close. Sam returned her kisses eagerly, in a way that made Cat wonder if she’d been waiting to kiss her. Sam typically let Cat take the lead with this kind of thing, sort of like their first kiss. Cat appreciated it, but sometimes she wondered idly about what Sam wanted, and whether she was enough.

But Cat wasn’t thinking about that as she kissed Sam on the couch that evening. Maybe Sam’s kisses were a bit more eager than usual, because Cat found herself responding in kind, the kisses deepening, and Cat felt a thrum of excitement building in her chest. She let her fingers thread into Sam’s hair, as if trying to keep her there, but Sam certainly wasn’t going anywhere, not if the sound she made in her throat as Cat’s tongue traced over her lower lip was any indication.

This wasn’t new, not really. They’d kissed a lot in a week and a half, and sometimes it had gotten pretty exciting, enough that Cat could hear her own heart beating, as if it were powered by love itself. But something about these kisses was different yet. Maybe it was the way Sam held her, the way she could feel her fingers pressing into her shoulder blade. Maybe it was the fact that they truly didn’t care about what was playing on TV and had no reason to be distracted from the way it felt so good to touch each other. Or maybe it was just the fact that they were teenagers, with hormones, who lived together, and the reality that all they’d explored together so far was kissing was a little bit unusual.

Cat didn’t really care what the reasons were, she just knew that it felt right to press closer to Sam, bearing her down on her back on the couch. She felt Sam’s breath catch as she comprehended what was happening, and Sam settled back against one of the throw pillows. Cat’s legs were between one of Sam’s and the back of the couch, one hand still behind Sam’s head, the other balancing against the sofa. She swept her hair over one shoulder and gazed down at Sam briefly, who looked up at her with wide blue eyes, before connecting their lips again, feeling the passion between them growing, an escalating excitement flowing through Cat’s body. Both of Sam’s arms were around her now, holding Cat in a way that felt careful but also solid, like Sam definitely didn’t want to let go. Cat was less free to move her own hands, so she focused on chasing Sam’s lips and her tongue, on the way the kisses grew hotter, on the soft sounds Sam made in her throat, and on Cat’s growing realization that she was echoing them as her pulse quickened, her blood pounded, her body sang with pleasure for what felt like the first time in a _very_ long time.

Abruptly feeling almost a little overwhelmed by the very physical yearning in her belly, Cat disengaged from the kisses, instead lowering her head to Sam’s shoulder, listening the sounds of them catching their breath, of Sam’s heartbeat, quick and strong, breathing in the scent of her, the various products she used and the scent of her skin itself. She pressed her nose closer to Sam’s throat, nuzzling the skin there, hearing the way Sam swallowed audibly.

Sam held her loosely and was quiet as Cat rested on her shoulder. Cat felt like she needed to explain herself. “I only stopped because...this is where I’ve always stopped, before.”

She could feel Sam nodding, her arms tightening around her briefly. “I get that,” she said, her voice sounding low, a little rough.

Cat tried to parse out how she felt and what she wanted as she lay in Sam’s arms, the flood of jumbled desires in her body and her mind difficult to make sense of. “It’s not that...I mean, I want to do more...eventually. It’s just all really new. And knowing that you love me--”

“And you love me,” Sam replied softly, and Cat could hear the smile in her voice as they exchanged what had become their way of declaring their feelings.

Cat giggled softly. “Yeah. I always thought before that being in love would mean I was ready to do other things, but for us, we fell in love without really realizing it, and I guess we have some catching up to do. And I just haven’t done a lot yet with anyone. For a lot of high school, I didn’t really want to, that much.” In retrospect, she was just trying to make it through the day most of the time, her old medication making her feel separated from her body, her thoughts and emotions seeming disconnected from everything around her. She thought back. “The most I really did was with my boyfriend at the end of my sophomore year, Daniel, but we didn’t even really date that long, so…” she slid her hand out from under Sam’s head to gesture at their bodies, “This was about as far as we got.”

Sam seemed to take that in, one hand idly running over Cat’s back, the motion perhaps a restless, nervous one that Cat nonetheless found soothing. “I’ve...done some things,” was all she said.

Cat lifted her head to look at her. “Really?” she asked. Sam just nodded mutely, and Cat considered what she’d heard about Sam’s dating history. “With Freddie?”

Sam’s expression morphed into disgust. “Oh, god, no!”

Cat was a little surprised at Sam’s extreme reaction. When she’d met Freddie, she thought he was sweet and also rather handsome. “Really? You said he was the only guy you ever loved, so--”

“Yeah, but that was...kid stuff. Puppy love, I guess. Felt real enough at the time, though.”

“Well, if not him, then who?” Cat wondered, “You said you never really dated anybody else seriously.” And, Cat knew, even though Sam had supposedly seriously dated Freddie, it had lasted about as long as her relationship with Daniel, which Cat had never thought of as serious.

“You don’t want to hear about that,” Sam forced a laugh.

“No, I think I kinda do,” Cat insisted, settling back down on Sam’s shoulder so that Sam wouldn’t have to look her in the eye for this. She could tell that Sam felt awkward about it, but Cat was curious. And it seemed only fair, since she’d shared her own experiences. She pressed a reassuring kiss to Sam’s neck as she settled and waited for her to begin.

“Okay, well…” Sam started, “Freddie and I only ever just kissed, and not even like we’re doing now. But I had a different friend in high school, a girl, and we...did a little more than kiss.”

“Was it Carly?” Cat asked, because this seemed likely, from how close they were.

“No!” Sam said quickly, though it was a different sort of denial than the one she’d given about Freddie, less horrified and softer somehow, almost wistful. Sam pressed on, “No, Carly and I weren’t like that. This was another friend. We kind of...explored with each other. Experimented. Like in rooms at school and stuff so it was all really secretive.”

That was vague, but Cat figured it was intentionally vague, which probably meant Sam and this other girl had done some pretty intimate things. Cat didn’t push further. “Okay,” she said, “Did you do anything else?”

“There was this girl I met when I was still riding my bike around the country,” Sam revealed. “That was mostly just awkward.” Cat nodded encouragingly, pressing another brief kiss to Sam’s shoulder, and Sam hesitantly continued, “Then there was the girl who worked at the cupcake shop…”

Cat perked up, “You mean Meredith?”

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed reluctantly.

Cat had a feeling that the time Sam had hung out with her acquaintance from school that it wasn’t because they thought they’d be great friends, but Sam had been so casual about it all that Cat was never really sure about it. But Sam was talking now. “What happened with Meredith?” Cat asked.

“You sure you want to know?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Cat agreed, curiosity building.

“So, I guess we kind of went on a date,” Sam explained. Cat nodded at the confirmation of her suspicion. “We got ice cream and went to the movies.” That part wasn’t new; Sam had told her about that back when it happened. The next part came from Sam’s mouth slowly, as if she were choosing every word very carefully. “We were in the theater, and she kissed me, and eventually she asked if I wanted her to...touch me.”

“Touch you _where_?” Cat asked, though from the way Sam was acting, she thought she knew.

“Like...her hand in my pants,” Sam said this part quickly, as if the impact might be softened by speed.

But Cat heard this and was interested. “Wow,” she replied quietly. “Did you spill your popcorn?”

“Not one piece,” Sam said proudly, “It was...difficult not to, though,” she admitted, which gave Cat an idea of how intense things actually got.

“So she, um, gave you...an _orgasm_?” Cat practically whispered the last word as she pressed. She really wanted to know, for some reason. Maybe because Meredith was someone she actually knew, so she could picture the scenario better than with the women Sam had mentioned before. Maybe because she could even kind of remember the day it happened, though it had felt like any other day to Cat.

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed hesitantly.

“Then what?”

“Then...I did the same for her.”

Cat digested that, the idea that Sam and Meredith had touched each other in the movie theater and both had gotten off. It was kind of thrilling, knowing that Sam had been this bold, this... _sexy_. The thought of Sam with other women didn’t bother Cat (even if the fact that Sam had kept it a secret did a little bit); instead, it just made Cat excited for what they would do in the future. “Wow.”

“You’re not upset?” Sam asked, concerned.

“No, of course not.”

“Huh.” Sam seemed to be processing that.

“What?”

“I don’t know, just...other people act like no one talks about stuff like this but…”

“I think people should be able to share important things with each other.” Cat nuzzled closer into Sam’s neck.

“Yeah. I don’t really have much else to tell you, though,” Sam stated.

“That’s okay, I was kind of done talking.” Cat lifted herself back up to gaze into warm blue eyes, soft with concern, but then Sam’s mouth stretched into a responding smile as she took in Cat’s expression, and Cat closed the distance between them with a kiss.

Things were hot immediately this time, an elated feeling like a bouquet of balloons filling Cat’s stomach and chest. She was still balancing on one arm up next to Sam’s head, and the other was resting on her shoulder, and Cat let herself run her hand past the short sleeve of Sam’s t-shirt to the skin of her upper arm, feeling the shape of lean muscle beneath soft flesh. It was hardly intimate; she’d touched Sam’s arms probably a hundred times, but it thrilled Cat unexpectedly, and she inhaled reflexively, leaning heavier onto Sam as she kissed her. Sam whimpered softly against her lips, and Cat felt hands on her back, moving slowly, hesitantly, as if Sam wasn’t sure where she was allowed to touch her. To be honest, Cat didn’t know what the boundaries were right now, either, and they seemed to implicitly agree on them as one of Sam’s hands slid up her back to grip her shoulder, keeping her in place, and the other settled on her waist. The sensation of Sam’s grip, firm and almost possessive, felt like it ignited flames of warmth all through Cat’s flesh, and desire flooded her veins.

They finally stopped kissing when the TV loudly played the intro to the next episode of _American Pipers_ (why were opening credits sometimes louder than the rest of the show?) and Cat realized how long they’d been kissing. She gazed down at Sam, who looked relaxed and happy, but then she frowned. “I think I might be hungry.”

Cat giggled, “When _aren’t_ you hungry?” she teased, poking Sam in the chest, just below her collarbone.

“I dunno, it’s pretty easy to forget when you’re kissing me.”

And that was all the invitation Cat needed to begin kissing her again, sliding her hand beneath her shoulder to bring their chests even closer together, feeling Sam’s breasts against her own. Again, not a completely unfamiliar sensation, given how much and how tightly they’d hugged over the time they’d known each other, but it _felt_ new, dizzying in a way that made Cat acutely aware of how much they still had to explore, and how eager she was to do it.

But she was nervous, too, of moving too quickly, of overwhelming them both, so she kept her own hands still, and Sam kept hers tame, even as their kisses grew ferocious once again, Sam groaning into her mouth as their tongues met, Cat gasping at the heat that flared through her as Sam nibbled on her lower lip.

They stopped, eventually, to breathe, or maybe because anywhere they went from here would be an escalation. Cat was certainly feeling tempted. Sam’s face was flushed, her hair looked mussed, and Cat could hear and feel her take a deep, calming breath.

“Okay,” Sam said quietly, “Now I’m definitely hungry. Like, I need a meal hungry.”

Cat laughed and pressed one more kiss to the corner of Sam’s mouth. “Okay, I’ll get started on dinner.”

Sam sighed contentedly, “That’s how I know you love me.”

“You love me, too,” Cat smirked, carefully sitting up as Sam swung her legs off the couch to give her room to maneuver.

“Damn right,” Sam gave her a fond smile.

-

Monday morning, Sam forced herself to go online to her insurance provider's website and click around until she found the section about mental health. The entire concept of insurance was new to her, but she'd had coverage ever since the end of last year, when Cat insisted she sign up for it, in case she was in a motorcycle accident or something. Sam didn't like to think she'd ever be in one, but Cat's reasoning wasn't without merit, if she wanted to be honest with herself.

Going to the doctor for non-emergency treatment, however, still wasn't something on Sam's radar. Until now. She opened up a page that featured the current doctors and therapists available within her insurance network, but there were still so many details and bits of information she didn't really understand, so all she did was look for the first name that said "accepting new patients" in the little info box underneath it.

**Lanelle Johnson, Licensed Professional Counselor**

Sure. Sam clicked and filled out a short form with her contact information and what she was looking for in a therapist, though most of the stuff listed seemed heavier than anything she was dealing with. Though there were a couple of things like "inappropriate expression of anger" and "difficulty meeting role expectations" that seemed relevant to ways she'd felt in life. But, she mostly just tapped out a brief version of the same things she'd said to Carly and Cat.

**Feeling like I could be better at relationship stuff because my home life was kind of crappy growing up and I don't want to screw up what I have going on now**

That summed it up, right? Was she supposed to say "crappy" on a questionnaire? Whatever, wasn't therapy about honesty?

She clicked the button that said FINISHED and then carried on with her day, figuring it would probably be a week or so before anyone even got back to her. But by the time she'd taken a shower and hauled the trash outside (before Cat even asked her to), she already had an email from the healthcare provider. Apparently, Lanelle Johnson had an opening that afternoon for a preliminary assessment.

Okay, so...not a week or so, then.

Around twelve-thirty, she hopped on her bike (after giving Cat a kiss and a promise to be safe) and rode to a small office building to the north, just past the Third Street Promenade and the Santa Monica Mall. The place was just off the PCH and had a view of the beach. Damn.

Sam took in the sight of the ocean as she parked her motorcycle, then climbed up the handful of steps to the entrance. Inside, there was a small lobby, but no attendant or receptionist, just a list of names and their corresponding office numbers. _Johnson, Lanelle_ was easy enough to spot on the directory and Sam ditched the tiny elevator for the stairs to the second floor and room number 202. In the waiting room, there were a few chairs and a frosted glass window that was currently open and framed around a dark haired man.

"Hi, uh. I'm Sam Puckett?" Sam said.

She eyed the badge clipped to his shirt and saw that his name was Enrique. "Ah, the assessment. Go ahead and fill this out," he handed her a clipboard with paperwork on it.

Already, Sam had a feeling this was more of the same information she'd already filled out that morning. And, yep, it was a lot of the same stuff, maybe worded a little differently, but all to the same point. She did her best to focus on the words on the page and not zone out entirely out of boredom. Really, it wasn't that bad and she was finished in under five minutes.

"Here," she said, setting the clipboard on the counter.

Enrique took it, quickly reviewed to make sure all the proper spaces were filled out, then nodded. "Looks good. Just need your driver's license and insurance card."

 _Shit_. Had she brought her insurance card? She dug her wallet out of her backpack and opened it up, easily producing her license, but prepared to make some excuse for not having her insurance card--except, there it was, right behind the little window where she'd just pulled her photo ID from. And it had a tiny pink post-it stuck to it.

_**You'll need this.** _

There was a tiny hand-drawn cat emoji underneath that. How the chiz had Cat known she'd forget her card? And how had she known where it even was? (Though Sam did tend to drop her mail in the same spot on the living room desk where it sat, unopened, until she needed some piece of information from a letter or a bill.) Sam smiled to herself, pulling the sticky note free and presenting the insurance card to Enrique who took everything over to the copy machine to scan it all. A sense of gratitude washed over Sam, leaving her feeling so damn lucky and convinced she was making the right decision to be here to talk about whatever might help her be a good partner to the kind of person who left adorable notes as not-so-gentle reminders about important things that were forgotten.

Enrique passed her cards back to her and was probably about to ask her to sit and wait when the door next to the check-in window opened and an attractive woman in dark slacks and a silky-looking white blouse said, "Sam?"

Usually people defaulted to Samantha, even when she wrote "Sam" in the preferred name/nickname box on forms like the one she'd just filled out. So, this assessment was off to a good start, at least from Sam's perspective.

"Yeah, hi." Sam nodded in greeting.

"Hi, I'm Lanelle," said the woman, "come on in." She stood back and allowed Sam to enter through the open door into a small hallway, then led her to the open doorway at the end where a sunlit room that faced the ocean was waiting for her.

"Wow. I could tell the view was killer from outside, but this is...damn," Sam said, taking in the expanse of the water and sky out the large paned window.

"That's pretty much what I said the first time I checked this place out," Lanelle replied. She indicated a few options of places to sit, which were an armchair, a small couch, and a squishier looking arm-chair. Sam chose the squishy-seeming one, wanting to be comfortable (and maybe because it was the one with the best angle on the window). Lanelle sat on the small sofa, angling her body slightly toward Sam, but otherwise reclining a bit and looking relaxed. “As I said before, my name is Lanelle Johnson, and you are welcome to call me Lanelle. I’m a licensed professional counselor, which means that our work together may focus both on examining why we do or think certain things, as well as searching for some practical solutions to issues to help you live a better, fuller life. Our conversations are, of course, confidential, unless I believe you are a threat to yourself or someone else, in which case, I would have to make a report. Does that all make sense?”

“Yep,” Sam replied, “I’ve heard some of this before.”

Lanelle nodded in understanding and settled even more on the couch, drawing Sam’s eyes away from the ocean view for a moment. "So, Sam, you wrote on your submission form that you wanted to talk about relationships? Is that accurate?"

"Uh," apparently they were just going to dive right into it. Which made sense, she supposed. That was how this lady made her money. "Yeah. I'm kind of just starting something pretty new and...it's really good, but also there's some complicated stuff about it. So I want to make sure I'm in a good place, I guess."

"What is it about this relationship that's important to you?" Lanelle asked.

"Well, she's my best friend...or, one of,” Sam amended. “We're really close. Like, we were before the relationship part started..."

As she trailed off, Lanelle gently cut in to ask, "Just to be clear, you mean a romantic relationship?"

"Yeah."

"And how long ago did that shift happen?"

Sam felt a smile tug her lips as she remembered the moment Cat kissed her. "Like a couple weeks ago? But we've been roommates for about a year and a half."

Lanelle nodded, digesting that. "Before things changed between you two, how did you get along at home?"

"Great. I mean, we'd fight a little over things here and there, but it's nothing major."

"So what is it that you're worried about happening?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know...it's just different now, if we argue."

"Do you argue a lot? Or are arguments becoming more frequent?"

Shaking her head, Sam answered the last question first. "No. And almost never. Not about serious stuff, anyway."

Sam’s focus was still largely on the window, but she could tell Lanelle was watching her thoughtfully. "What's a non-serious argument you've had?"

"Well...last week, I got weird about her wanting me to come help with dinner, but I was finishing some stuff up with my motorcycle and that made her irritated with me and I was frustrated with her even though it wasn't really anything, then I left to take a ride around to chill out. But after like five minutes, I just went back home and we talked it out."

"And then what happened?"

"We made dinner."

Lanelle smiled, softly. "Based on that account, it sounds like you two seem to have a good handle on things, so far."

"Yeah," Sam said, quietly. Now that she had a second to stop answering questions and wasn't looking out at the view, anymore, she realized just how damn good-looking Lanelle was. Like, really, really hot. Deep, dark doe eyes, skin that glowed golden-brown in the natural light of the picture window, sleek black hair pulled back into a bun. Okay, chiz, Sam needed to keep it together.

"You also mentioned your family," Lanelle prompted when Sam didn’t say anything else.

"I did?" Sam tried to remember when she'd said anything about that.

"On the questionnaire," she clarified.

"Oh. Oh, yeah. My mom's a mess. Don’t really need therapy to uncover that. My sister moved across the country to get away from her. I spent most of my time at my best friend Carly's place through all of junior high and high school. Until I moved out here."

"And where was that? Before you came to LA."

"Seattle." For some reason, now Sam was paranoid about looking directly at Lanelle, like she might accidentally try and check her out while they were talking.

Lanelle shifted on the couch, and Sam felt as if she somehow had even more of her focus. "Now you said your romantic partner...I'm sorry, her name is...?"

"Oh, Cat."

"Cat. Okay, you said Cat was one of your best friends. And then Carly is the other one, if I'm following correctly."

"Yeah. Carls is like...she's always been there for me. She still is, even though she's in Italy. We video chat every week." Sam felt herself pulling her eyes away from Lanelle and forcing herself to look at the corner of the sofa.

"Is there something bothering you?" Lanelle glanced behind her, as if looking for some offending object or maybe a ghost or something that might be the reason for Sam's shift in attention. “You seem a bit preoccupied.”

"No...it's..." Hell, she was here to be honest, right? "Um...you're really hot."

Lanelle's eyebrows rose. "Ah. I see. Is that a problem?"

"No! No. It's...it's nice. Good. Shit. Am I supposed to say that?"

At Sam's flustered outburst, Lanelle laughed. "It's fine with me...I appreciate the compliment. But is it a problem for you?"

"I..." Was it? Sam squared up and looked back at Lanelle. Sure, she was gorgeous. She was also probably at least in her early thirties. And she was (hopefully) about to become Sam's regular therapist. "I don't think so, no. The only other therapists I've talked to have been...well, not like you."

"In what way? Other than physically."

Sam shrugged. "You're just...cool? Easy to talk to." It probably helped that when Lanelle looked at her, it didn’t make her skin crawl. Previous doctors and therapists sometimes couldn’t quite disguise their judgment or discomfort when they looked at her.

"That's part of the job, so I'd hope that was a factor."

Sam looked away again. "Sorry I made it weird."

"Sam, this is therapy. It's meant to be a space for you to be weird, if that’s what you need to do."

"Right." Sam nodded, took in a breath, then nodded again. "Okay. I'm ready to keep going."

"Great," Lanelle smiled. Okay, her smile was _nice_ , but Sam could be professional, too.

Admitting she found her therapist attractive made it feel less like a shameful secret, and Sam managed to stay on task, and give Lanelle her attention through the rest of the session. They talked more about Cat and Carly, even briefly touched on Freddie, but Sam’s family didn’t come up again, which was fine with her.

As the preliminary appointment wrapped up, they agreed to work together, and Lanelle suggested they meet every other week, which sounded fine to Sam. Lanelle walked her back up front to Enrique and asked him to get Sam set up with her appointments. Though it wasn’t the thing that was actually motivating her to do this, Sam thought that, really, seeing her attractive therapist every couple of weeks was certainly something she might look forward to. It was a vast improvement over any other therapist or psychiatrist she’d seen over the years.

“Okay, so,” Enrique muttered, tapping at his keyboard, “How do Wednesday afternoons sound to you?”

Sam shook her head. “No can do. Wednesdays I drive my girlfriend to her therapy appointment.”

Enrique shot her a beaming smile, “Oh, how precious!” he cooed, the lilt of his voice shifting away from its professional veneer. “Okay, then,” he recovered, “I also have a timeslot on Thursdays at 4pm.”

“Sounds good,” Sam agreed. Enrique confirmed her appointment time, wrote it on a little business card for her that had Lanelle’s office number and emergency contact number on it, and handed it to Sam, who slipped it into her wallet, sticking in between the bills inside so that she’d be more likely to remember to add it to her calendar. Then, she left the building and stepped out into the warm sun and the soft, cool sea breeze that smelled like salt and surf.

Sam felt a sense of accomplishment as she straddled her motorcycle and started home.

-

Later that week, Cat had made dinner and, afterward, Sam insisted on handling the dishes to the point of actually picking Cat up and carrying her out of the kitchen, setting her down with a kiss and the instruction to "go do something else for a while." It was still new, this thing where Sam volunteered to do certain chores, but Cat wasn't going to argue (though she did get a certain thrill from being picked up and carried around). She grabbed her PearBook and slipped into the bedroom, settling on her bed to look up ideas for the specific type of pattern she wanted for Kim's (well, Gabriella's) werewolf costume.

There were a few new emails waiting for her, so she clicked through them. One included a 20% off coupon for Marianne's Fabric Party, which might be very useful. Another was from her brother.

It looked like it had been sent through some kind of email form at the hospital, because the address was kind of a jumble. But the subject line was clear.

**SUBJECT: [Message from Giovanni Valentine]**

**Hey, Cat. ^^ I know it's been a while but they're letting me have email access for now and I wanted to say hey. So hey. Hey hey hey. ;)**

**Mom says she's been keeping you up to date on what's going on up here, but I'm kind of wazzed off with her and Dad because I just found out from Nona that you've been dealing with some crazy chiz of your own. They won't tell me much other than that you're okay now, but I know they don't tell either of us everything. Which is part of what I wanted to write to you first. You'll be able to write back with the link at the bottom of this.**

**Anyway so, I want to know so much about what's going on back home. I think I miss the beach the most. Especially at night. Nona says you're living in her old Venice apartment with a friend? How's that going? And didn't you just start college? I can't believe you've graduated high school. My baby sister Cat is a college girl, living with a roommate in Venice. That sounds like it's probably a lot of fun. Are you in any shows? I was just telling a friend of mine about how you used to sing all the parts of the opening number to Downtown Loft. I miss all your dumb musical numbers.**

**Tell Mr. Purple he still owes me twenty bucks.**

**Write back soon.**

**Love,**

**GIO**

Cat wiped at her eyes, pushing away the tears that had crept out as she'd read the email. Gio sounded good, lucid, even funny. Like his old self. That was a good sign. She also knew he could easily slip away from that lucidity, depending on what was going on around him. But she was delighted he'd reached out to her, that he'd given her a direct way to keep in touch with him that cut out the unreliable point of contact that was their mother. Cat knew her mom was always just trying to protect both of them, but she didn't think it was fair that she and Gio were both lied to, regularly.

"Hey, Cat?" Sam called from down the short hallway, her voice getting louder as she walked toward the bedroom. "Can the little measuring things go in the dishwasher?" By the end of her sentence, she was standing at the foot of Cat's bed. "What's wrong?" she immediately asked, seeing the wetness on Cat's cheeks.

Cat shook her head. "Everything's fine."

Sam sat on the edge of the bed. "I mean, I know there are happy tears but that's not what I'm looking at."

"My brother emailed me," was Cat's soft explanation.

"Oh." Sam said, quietly. It was clear she was waiting for more information.

"He's fine. Our parents just...don't tell us much about each other."

"That sucks," Sam declared, reaching for her hand and gently stroking Cat's fingers.

"Yeah." Cat sighed and set the laptop aside, allowing herself to lean forward so Sam could wrap her up in a hug, which she did and it made Cat feel warm and happy and loved.

"Would it help if we go out for ice cream?" Sam suggested.

Cat nodded, her eyes closed as she nuzzled Sam's neck. "Can we stop by the beach? I want to take a picture for Gio." She didn't even know if she could send pictures through the messaging system, but she didn't care.

"We sure can."

As the week progressed, Cat had begun piecing together the fabric for the foundation of Gabriella’s werewolf costume, but she still wasn’t feeling confident about it, especially not when it came to the details. She had tried looking up pictures online to inspire her, but most of them freaked her out a little bit. Even the dream she’d had several months back about her friends being werewolves hadn’t been scary; instead, it had been kind of cuddly and sweet. She was pretty sure that Kim’s mental image, like her own, wasn’t really inclined toward the long-fanged, hunched-over, muscled beasts with glowing eyes.

She’d mentioned her issue to Jade when they met up after Cat’s therapy appointment on Wednesday, since Jade was her friend who had the most knowledge of weird, creepy stuff. Jade had agreed that a lot of werewolves in film and television looked ridiculous (which wasn’t really what Cat had been trying to say, though at least they both disliked them) but she did suggest that maybe Cat would find some of the classic representations of werewolves inspiring. And so for their Funday friend hangout that weekend, she’d brought along a copy of _The Wolf Man_.

“But Cat doesn’t like horror movies,” Sam frowned.

“No, but this isn’t really scary,” Jade assured. “Like, it’s mildly creepy and atmospheric, but it’s not a _horror_ movie. Not by our modern sensibilities.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cat reassured Sam, “I’ve seen some pictures. And Jade said it doesn’t have any gore or jump scares.”

Sam nodded, though she gazed at Cat with concern until Cat happily parked herself on the couch right next to her, settling under Sam’s arm. Tori sat down on her other side, and to keep them all from having to scrunch uncomfortably close, Jade sat on the floor, leaning against Tori’s legs.

Cat was right that the movie didn’t scare her. In fact, she was really enjoying it. She liked old movies; she liked the stark contrast of black and white, she liked the homogeneous formality of the Mid-Atlantic accent they all used, with its precise vowels and specific inflections. She liked the styles, the generically handsome men in their suits and the women with their beautifully coiffed hair and elegant fashion. It was easy to get absorbed into the film, with its relatively simple plot that moved rather quickly.

Though Cat was enjoying the experience, she knew she was largely watching to see the Wolf Man himself, to get a sense of the physicality, to see how his costume worked. She wasn’t expecting to get so drawn into the story itself, but parts of it resonated with her. The film began with an image of text explaining that lycanthropy was a disease of the mind in which someone believed they were a wolf-man. That didn’t seem so frightening, until the film progressed, and events kept making Larry, the titular Wolf Man, doubt his own mind. He had beaten a wolf to death with his cane, but a human corpse had been found. He’d been bitten by the wolf, but there was no wound.

Cat watched as the protagonist woke in his bed with wild hair and a star on his flesh where the wolf bite had been, and realized he’d tracked dirt into his house in the night, watched as he hurriedly brushed all the dirt off of his windowsill. Covering his tracks, literally. Maybe because she’d just heard from her brother for the first time in awhile, but it reminded her of Gio, a little, of the circular process of him getting lucid and medicated and then trying to cover up the things he’d done when he wasn’t well. The way the townspeople hunted the Wolf Man reminded her of Gio a little bit, too. The way people in public were so often so frightened of him. It had led to more than a few dangerous encounters. Sometimes people reacted violently to things they didn’t understand.

It was even a bit relatable to her, in ways that she didn’t like. But she could identify with the idea of being out of control, of sometimes feeling like she couldn’t trust her own mind. The way some characters, like the doctor, insisted that Larry’s apparently very real condition must be a symptom of a mental disease (they’d even specifically mentioned schizophrenia at one point) just made the metaphor hit harder. Of course, her psychotic break was probably the moment that exhibited this lack of control most clearly, but there were smaller moments. Most recently, perhaps, the time she’d been obsessed with finding the second perfect shoe to match the one she’d found in a bush, and had gotten so singularly focused and intense that she’d really upset Dice. Or the day she’d trapped Sam in the closet and tried to jump the motorbike over the pool full of killer tuna fish. It was difficult to explain, but it felt a little bit like the lack of control that accompanied her psychotic break.

When the film ended with Larry dead, the townspeople believing that he had sacrificed himself to save a woman from a wolf rather than being the wolf all along, Cat shuddered involuntarily. It was so easy for this kind of profound struggle to be invisible to other people. Unless they wanted to hurt you for it. It was part of why Cat had hid behind the “special vitamins” for so long.

The movie wasn’t long, which left them all with plenty of time to go grab some food (burgers) and dessert (ice cream cones that they ate while walking along the beach as the sun set) before Tori and Jade had to leave to prepare for whatever classes they had the next day. Once home, Cat found that she had a better idea for how to handle some of the details of Gabriella’s costume thanks to the Wolf Man and worked on that for a while as Sam flipped channels and put away a bag of chips on the couch.

Eventually, though, Cat began to feel tired. Sam indicated she at least wanted to finish watching whatever show she was binging, so Cat kissed her goodnight and headed into the bedroom.

After performing her bedtime hygiene ritual and putting on her pajamas, Cat slid into bed, but the movie that hadn’t scared her while she was watching it wouldn’t leave her mind as she tried to fall asleep.

It wasn’t really the Wolf Man himself that was scaring her, though she kept opening her eyes expecting to see him in her window (and once nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Herb, their neighbor with the big bushy beard who lived in a nearby condo, walking past the window instead). She was more haunted by what the movie had meant to her. The thought of losing her mind was a more potent fear than ever before; she’d played multiple characters in projects of Jade’s in which she’d been someone being driven crazy, and even with her brother’s struggles, it wasn’t something that really scared her until recently. And though the cyclical nature of the Wolf Man’s transformations reminded her of Gio, whose routine of lucidity followed by eventual paranoia and chaos was almost clockwork sometimes, what was keeping her up was the way it felt to her.

Gio was often incapable of realizing that he was ill. Cat, however, had been put into a situation recently in which looking back at her previous behavior was revealing things that frightened her. Like the Wolf Man, she knew something wasn’t quite right with her, and she was haunted by it. The incidents with the shoe and the motorcycle jump hadn’t felt odd to her at the time, because she tended to get focused and obsessed with things from time to time and that seemed normal enough. But after she’d calmed down and resolved both situations, she’d been left feeling like she was brushing dirt off her windowsill, metaphorically. Apologizing to Dice for upsetting him. The way Sam had taken her home after they’d visited Freddie and Robbie in the hospital and had sat her down and faced her squarely and told her that Cat had really _scared_ her, because she could’ve gotten hurt...these were details Cat hadn’t recognized when she was in the throes of her obsession. Like the Wolf Man, sometimes she lost control.

Cat didn’t know if these incidents she was re-examining in her head were at all similar to her psychotic break (it frightened her to consider she could’ve been close to such a break multiple times before), but in light of the chords the film struck with her, they scared her all the same.

She was still lying in the dark, lost in her thoughts, when Sam came into the bedroom an hour or so later, moving quietly through the room and going into the bathroom. Cat could hear the water running as she brushed her teeth and washed her face, doing what she’d seen Sam do probably a hundred times when she’d leave the door open so they could talk on evenings they were getting ready for bed around the same time.

When Sam crept back out of the bathroom, she was wearing her pajamas and she tossed her dirty clothes into her laundry hamper (the fact that she’d bought one and actually used it was still something Cat was getting used to). But as she turned away from her closet, she looked at Cat and stopped abruptly. “I thought you were asleep,” Sam spoke quietly. “Did I wake you up?”

“No,” Cat replied, “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry,” Sam said sympathetically as she climbed up onto her own bed. “What’s bothering you?” She fluffed up her pillow and reclined so she could watch Cat from where she was lying down.

“I just keep thinking about the Wolf Man,” Cat simplified, not sure how much detail of her thoughts she should admit to. She sat up in bed and began shifting out of her covers.

“Well, don’t worry about that,” Sam said confidently. “He’s not real and even if he were, he died a long time ago. And if he comes in here, I’ll fight him.”

But that didn’t make Cat feel better as she thought about poor Larry getting beaten to death with his own cane by his own father. “What if he doesn’t want to fight? What if he just wants a hug?” she asked as she sat on the edge of her bed, pulling one of her pink pillows to her chest and tucking Mr. Purple into her elbow.

“Tell you what,” Sam replied, “If he wants a hug, that’s your job. If he’s here to hurt anyone, then I fight him. Deal?”

“Yeah,” Cat replied, feeling relieved. Sam was always willing to play along with whatever scenarios Cat proposed. It was part of what had made her so much fun to live with back when they were still getting to know each other, and, Cat thought, part of what made her fall in love with Sam. She stood up from her own bed and cautiously approached Sam’s, trying to figure out the best way to ask if she could just sleep there.

But Sam could see exactly what was happening. “You want to just sleep here?” she asked.

Cat hopped to sit on the edge of Sam’s bed, still clutching her pillow and Mr. Purple. “Can I?” But then she paused. “Wait, your sheets are clean, right?”

Sam chuckled, “Kiala washed them yesterday,” she assured Cat.

“Okay. Then yeah,” Cat agreed, and Sam shifted over to give Cat room to place her pink pillow next to Sam’s white and orange one. Sam stayed on her back, letting Cat snuggle up next to her, Mr. Purple held to her chest with one arm, the other slung over Sam’s stomach. She felt Sam’s arm wrap around her shoulders, holding her close, felt Sam press a kiss to the top of her head, and sighed contentedly, feeling warm and safe and adored.

As she finally began to drift off to sleep, she thought that she didn’t understand why they hadn’t been doing this every night.

(That was, until Sam started snoring right in her ear.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Butterflies_ by Kacey Musgraves.
> 
> **Next time on Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay):**
> 
> “Hey,” said Freddie, eyeing the screen, almost suspiciously.
> 
> “Why are you looking at me like that?”
> 
> “Like what?”
> 
> “Like you think I’m up to something.”
> 
> “Well…”
> 
> “ _What_ , Benson?”
> 
> “You usually all with some kind of question or something.”
> 
> “Oh, so I can’t just call up a friend?”
> 
> “I don’t know, can you?”
> 
> He had a point, though Sam didn’t want to give it to him. Still...the purpose of this was to...talk. Like friends. “I’m working on it,” was the most honest she was willing to be with him.
> 
> “Oh. Huh. Okay.” He shrugged. One thing Freddie had going for him was that he was always willing to try. “I could tell you about my day.”
> 
> Oh, chiz on a cracker. The last thing Sam wanted to do was hear about a day in the life at Seattle Technology Institute. But…”Yeah, okay.”
> 
> And, sure, maybe it was _kind of_ nice to see that he smiled at her half-hearted invitation to tell her about what he was up to in college. It wasn’t like there’d be a quiz at the end. Well, she hoped not. With Freddie, you could never be sure.


	5. Support: I need a strong heart and a soft touch

When Cat woke up later (after the first time when Sam had been snoring right in her ear), it was morning, but the really early kind that didn't quite count. The dim sunlight through the window suggested it was around sunrise, which meant she still had a couple more hours before she needed to get up. Not that she _needed_ to get up for much of anything other than her therapy appointments. It wasn't like she was going to school or work or anything.

Though, right now, none of that was particularly on her mind because when she tried to stretch out from her curled up position on Sam's bed, she realized there was nowhere to go that wasn't taken up by Sam's sprawled body. Cat sat up and surveyed exactly what had happened: Sam (who, last Cat remembered, had been neatly lined up next to Cat with a protective arm around her) was stretched across the diagonal of the mattress, one leg flung outside the covers, an arm flung up over her head, hair splayed over her own face and rustling a bit with each breath.

There were two options here, she could try and get Sam to move (and risk being flung over the side of the bed because Sam, much like Jade, didn't react well to being woken up) or just go back to her own bed (and deal with the lack of cuddles and snuggles). Option two seemed like the safest and Cat decided that was the best way to get back to sleep. She considered giving Sam a kiss on her cheek, but that would mean trying to move her hair out of her face and that could result in getting tackled (which could be fun if she weren't so sleepy and Sam wasn't guaranteed to be grumpy), so she decided to hold onto any kisses and just issue them in the morning, once Sam had some coffee and the first wave of breakfast in her.

Cat slipped out of Sam’s bed, reflecting as she did so that their beds were actually the same size, it just didn’t feel that way because hers had all her stuffed animals on it. She was probably lucky she hadn’t been literally knocked out of Sam’s elevated bed. Once back under her own covers, she tried to settle back down and fall asleep, but though she wasn’t thinking about the Wolf Man anymore, sleep was elusive, and she longed for the comfort of Sam’s arm around her.

She was just starting to drift back off when she was pulled back from the brink of sleep by a rustling sound from Sam’s side of the room that grew almost frantic for a moment, then Sam’s hoarse voice, “Cat? Where’d you go?”

“I’m here,” Cat replied quietly, opening her eyes in time to see Sam sit up in bed, blowing her hair out of her face and squinting at Cat with sleepy eyes.

“Why’d you go away?” Sam grumbled, sounding confused and a little sad.

“Because it’s awfully hard to sleep when you’re taking up the whole bed,” Cat replied pointedly.

“Oh,” Sam muttered, then turned and flopped back onto the bed, “Sorry,” Cat heard muffled against her pillow, “You should come back.”

Cat hesitated, but got out of her bed to walk over to Sam’s, only to find that Sam was now lying diagonally the _other_ way on her bed, but on her stomach this time. And, from the look of her face, she’d already fallen back to sleep.

Cat wasn’t about to try to ease her way back into Sam’s bed under those conditions, so she went back to her own bed and managed to fall asleep for a few more hours before getting up (to see Sam still sprawled in much the same position as before) to make breakfast and coffee.

Sam emerged a little later and poured herself a cup of coffee while Cat finished making breakfast (today felt like a pancakes topped with caramelized apples kind of day) and stood watching Cat work for a moment while her brain caught up to her body.

Her first complete sentence, though, was “I didn’t even notice you getting up this morning.”

Cat’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Do you usually? I always thought you slept through me waking up.”

Sam returned the look with a perplexed one of her own, “No,” she drawled, “But you’re not usually in bed with me, either.”

“I got out of your bed in the middle of the night last night. You don’t remember?”

“I guess not,” Sam shrugged.

“We had a whole conversation about it.”

“I guess I wasn’t really awake. Why’d you get out of bed?”

“Because you sleep like…” Cat tried to think of the kindest way to describe the way Sam snored and flopped about in the night. “You sleep pretty wild,” she settled on.

“Oh,” Sam took another sip of coffee, “Sorry, I didn’t know. I haven’t shared a bed since...I don’t know, sharing a hotel room with Carly, probably. And she’s the one who snores.”

“It’s not just her,” Cat muttered.

“What was that?”

“You snore, too. And thrash. You nearly pushed me out of bed.”

Sam frowned, looking disappointed. “But I liked having you in bed with me.”

“Me, too. But maybe we should think about a bigger bed if we ever want to share one.”

“But I _like_ my bed!” Sam argued.

“And I like mine,” Cat shrugged. “Maybe we should just keep sleeping separately.”

“But I liked cuddling with you, too,” Sam’s eyes dropped almost sheepishly as she said it, and it made Cat feel like she might float away with giddiness for a moment.

“I like it, too,” Cat replied quietly. “Maybe we can start out that way and then go to our separate beds,” she suggested.

“Maybe,” Sam conceded, “Is breakfast almost done?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go sit,” Cat waved a spatula at her. Sam topped up her coffee cup and went to sit at the breakfast nook, watching with eager eyes as Cat finished cooking breakfast.

After they ate, Cat delivered the series of kisses she’d mentally set aside for Sam early that morning, making Sam chuckle and grin and kiss her back, but then, Sam parked herself on the couch with her sketchbook, and Cat retreated to her crafting nook to put the finishing touches on Gabriella’s werewolf costume.

Today had the makings of a good day already.

\- 

On Tuesday, Sam took Cat to her appointment with Dr. Russ and headed down to the New To Yoused bookstore. She was initially disappointed to note that Harmony wasn’t working; instead, there was a younger woman behind the register, probably a little older than Sam, who greeted her softly and then mostly ignored her. Sam had half a mind to leave if she wasn’t going to tell Harmony about the ride she’d taken out up through the Angeles National Forest, but she looked around to kill some time anyway, and found a battered copy of _The Shining_ , which she’d heard Jade mention a few times. It seemed like her speed, so she went ahead and picked it up.

She didn’t start reading it at the Jet Brew as she sipped her coffee, however. Instead, she considered the fact that she’d begun seeing a therapist, for the purpose of being a better girlfriend to Cat. That was her goal, anyway, even though she was pretty sure the sessions she had with Lanelle were going to cover more than that and that eventually, she’d have to talk more in depth about her mom. She wasn’t looking forward to that.

But she couldn’t help but think that her own expectations about relationships had been shaped too much by her brief romance with Freddie. Afterwards, they’d transitioned back to friendship fairly seamlessly, and Sam thought she was even kinder to him a lot of the time. But there was still the fact that their relationship was defined by conflict.

Sam talked to Carly every week, but she largely ignored or blew off Freddie. Maybe that was part of her problem. Maybe she needed to get better at relationships in general, including friendships. She scheduled a time to video chat with Freddie, later that day while Cat went to visit Nona (mostly to give Sam some privacy on her call). 

“Hey,” said Freddie, eyeing the screen, almost suspiciously.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you think I’m up to something.”

“Well…”

“ _What_ , Benson?”

“You usually call with some kind of question or something.”

“Oh, so I can’t just call up a friend?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

He had a point, though Sam didn’t want to give it to him. Still...the purpose of this was to...talk. Like friends. “I’m working on it,” was the most honest she was willing to be with him.

“Oh. Huh. Okay.” He shrugged. One thing Freddie had going for him was that he was always willing to try. “I could tell you about my day.”

Oh, chiz on a cracker. The last thing Sam wanted to do was hear about a day in the life at Seattle Technology Institute. But…”Yeah, okay.”

And, sure, maybe it was _kind of_ nice to see that he smiled at her half-hearted invitation to tell her about what he was up to in college. It wasn’t like there’d be a quiz at the end. Well, she hoped not. With Freddie, you could never be sure.

They finally reached a point where Freddie asked, "Anyway, what's been happening with you?"

"I might need your help with a website thing."

" _Ah_ ," Freddie nodded. "There it is."

"No, I mean..." Sam sighed, realizing how this sounded, based on what he had just said fifteen minutes before. "It's related to how I'm doing."

"I'm listening."

"Cat's been making these tiny doll clothes and I was thinking it could be a great idea to undersell those bastards at Fresno Girl. And Cat's designs are a lot cooler than anything they sell in that stupid store. I worked out the numbers and we could make a solid profit and still only be selling at half the price of the official stuff." Freddie just kind of stared at her and Sam realized maybe she needed to explain some of the basics. "Oh, uh, Fresno Girl dolls are those ones you can get customized to look like--"

But he interrupted. "I know what they are."

"Oh. Okay." Pause. "Wait. Why do _you_ know?"

"Nothing, it's not important. I'm assuming you're trying to tell me you want to sell the doll clothes online?"

"Oh my god. Fredward Benson." Sam was hit with a memory from her visit to the store in the mall. There had been a sign by the cash register about the partner store, the one that sold the male counterpart dolls. "Are you a Fresno Boy boy?"

"No!" Freddie shouted, defensively.

"You totally are."

He stewed for a moment, then rolled his eyes. "My mom took me to get one for my ninth birthday."

"Please tell me you still have it."

"I don't."

"Freddie. You know I can tell when you're lying to me."

"You cannot." 

But Sam just stared at him through the screen. "I wanna see it."

"I'm sure my mom gave it away."

"Nope."

"You don't know what happens in my house."

"I know your mom would never give away something as important and personal as a customized Fresno Boy doll."

Freddie groaned. " _Fine_." He rose from his chair and disappeared out of frame. Sam heard shuffling and things being moved around. Finally, Freddie was back. And he had a tiny friend in his hands that looked eerily just like him.

"This is the best day of my life," decided Sam. "What's his name?" Whatever Freddie said was a mumble. "What was that?" Sam teased.

"His name is Lil' Freddie," he said, reluctantly.

Sam, who had been sitting with her legs tucked up on the couch, pushed her laptop aside and doubled over in laughter. She could see that he wasn't amused by her amusement, so she tried to calm down. "It's so sweet," she managed, before laughing again. It was too much. The shape of the hair, the striped shirt tucked into the khakis, it was an uncanny likeness.

"Okay, well, this has been fun."

"No, hey...okay. Wait." Sam took a breath and picked her computer back up. There were still a few giggles that surfaced as she looked at the miniature Freddie in regular Freddie's hands. "This is actually perfect. As a Fresno Boy boy, you know exactly how much that crap costs."

"I'm _not_ a--" But he gave in. "Yeah. It's overpriced. And my mom would never pay for any of the cool accessories. Like the time I wanted to get him a wizarding cloak."

"Yeah, really cool." She was teasing, but she also was already considering how easy it might be for Cat to make something like that.

There was still a bit of push and pull as Sam continued to rib Freddie about Lil' Freddie, but he was ultimately on board with helping Sam build a website for Cat's new business venture. "This is honestly a really great idea," he admitted.

"She's so good at making stuff like this," Sam said, toying with the sleeve of a tiny suit jacket she'd grabbed as a sample to show Freddie. "I don't even know how she gets these ideas."

"Big imagination, I guess," Freddie offered.

Sam considered the way Cat never moved through the day without song or a pirouette or a strange but sweet observation of how the world works. "She definitely thinks about things differently than I do."

"It seems like...you two get along really well."

"We do," Sam replied, absently.

"I'm glad you have someone like that," Freddie said.

Sam hadn't come right out and told him about her new relationship status. It had seemed like a weird thing to do, to tell your ex-boyfriend who was a thousand miles away about your new girlfriend. But the way he spoke to her, just now, told her it was okay to talk about. "Me, too. I...wouldn't have ever imagined anything like this happening but..."

"Yeah, me neither," he said, shrugging. "Weird how stuff happens, huh?"

"Yep." There was a long pause and Sam wondered if he _really_ knew what she was talking about. “Cat and I are, like, dating,” she clarified.

Freddie’s face clouded with momentary confusion, but also clarity. “...yeah, I know?” 

“Well, I just wanted to be sure.”

“I picked up that there was something going on when I was down there.”

Well, now he was back to being way off-base. “That’s funny because nothing was going on then.”

“Yeah, _right_.”

“It wasn’t!”

“Okay, well, maybe _you_ didn’t see it, but...Cat was really sweet to me and it was nice to hang out with her, but I could tell she wasn’t into me.”

“Because she was trying to make me jealous.”

“Uh huh.”

“In a _friend_ way!” The smirk on Freddie’s face tempted Sam to just close the lid on the laptop, but she also knew he maybe had a point. Whatever it was that had grown into the current relationship she had with Cat had been developing for a while.

“Hey,” he said, probably picking up on her irritation with him. “I think she’s really great. Honestly.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean, I’m not sure what she sees in you…”

“You’re one to talk! You dated me.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Well, I don’t know what _I_ was thinking.”

“I guess we can agree on that much,” Freddie declared.

Sam offered a shrug, but one that signaled affirmation. He seemed to pick up on it. “Anyway,” she said, “you’ll help with the website?”

“Yeah. Is it outrageous to ask for a consultation fee?”

“Not if you let us pay you in wizard cloaks for Lil’ Freddie.”

“That’s--” Freddie’s eyebrows raised in consideration. “--actually pretty fair.”

-

“How was your week, Cat?” Dr. Penny asked amiably as they settled into their respective comfortable seats in her office.

“It was okay,” Cat replied, smoothing her dress into place as she took her seat, trying to decide what she might want to talk about today.

But Dr. Penny had another question before they got into that. “You saw Dr. Russ again recently, yes?”

Cat nodded, “Yesterday,” she confirmed.

“So everything seems to be going okay with your medication for now?” Dr. Penny verified.

“Yeah,” Cat confirmed, “I’ve been feeling pretty good, generally.” That was where she’d landed with her session with Dr. Russ. She was in love with Sam, she was enjoying the sense of accomplishment that came with making clothes for her stuffed animals and beginning to consider opening an online store with clothes for dolls, and she wasn’t constantly worrying about losing her mind, which she figured meant the medication was working. They’d talked about whether Cat had noticed any of her ADHD symptoms impacting her life, and she hadn’t. Dr. Russ had explained that her medication was sometimes effective for treating ADHD, and that he hoped this proved to be the case with her, but to continue to monitor her symptoms. Evidently, he hadn’t mentioned this at the previous appointment to avoid a placebo effect.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Dr. Penny smiled.

“I heard from my brother,” Cat blurted, abruptly deciding on the most pressing thing she wanted to talk about.

“Gio,” Dr. Penny spoke, as if confirming to them both that this was who Cat meant, “Did you get a letter?”

“No, an email,” Cat replied, “They’re letting him have limited computer access now. I guess that means they’re happy with his progress.”

“That’s really good to hear.”

“Yeah,” Cat said wistfully, “He sounded like he was doing well. Like, he really made sense, and like he missed me.”

“I’m sure he does. You two seem like you’re very close.”

Cat nodded, although that felt complicated, with how separate their lives had been lately. Really, ever since Gio was diagnosed it was like he had been slowly drifting away from her, like an astronaut untethered in space, floating into the darkness just like George Clooney in that movie they’d gone to see with Jade and Tori the night before. Jade had free tickets because of a class she was taking in film school and it had been a nice enough double date movie, but Cat found herself gripping Sam’s arm though most of it because a lot of it was so tense and-- _Wait_. She was in the middle of something. “Yeah,” she replied, “He misses LA, though. I can tell. The longest they’re supposed to keep him at the facility is two years, and it’s already been a year and a half. I don’t know what’s next for him.”

“I’m sure your parents must be making some plans regarding that. Have you spoken to them about it?”

This reminded Cat of what had really upset her about Gio’s email, and she looked away, eyes stinging. “No,” she said quietly, “They always just...tell me not to worry.”

“That must be hard,” Dr. Penny said sympathetically, “Even if they have what they think are good reasons, it’s hard to be left in the dark.”

“Yeah,” Cat whispered. “Gio told me...they wouldn’t tell him anything about how I’m doing, either. He heard about my psychotic break from Nona. Or, well, I don’t even think she told him that much, just that I’d been having a hard time, but I told him what happened when I emailed him back. I haven’t heard anything in return yet, but it sounded like Saturdays were when he gets time on the computer. And he thought I was in college. No one told him I was taking some time off.”

Dr. Penny frowned, “That sounds incredibly frustrating.”

“It is!” Cat burst out, then fell silent.

Dr. Penny watched her for a long moment as Cat struggled to control her emotions, her teary eyes, the lump in her throat. “This is making you emotional,” she observed quietly, “Do you want to talk about why?”

“I--I don’t know,” Cat replied to buy herself time. The truth was, she didn’t _want_ to say anything bad about her parents. She knew they loved her, and she knew they’d tried their best with both her and Gio. Cat had never lacked for things she wanted or needed, whether it was a new stuffed animal, theater camp, or tuition to Hollywood Arts. She’d even had access to credit cards she probably wasn’t responsible enough for starting when she was a sophomore in high school.

She knew her parents did pretty well, financially. Not ridiculously so, but they were certainly comfortable, and happy to spend money on opportunities for the enrichment of their children alongside occasional dinners at fancy restaurants. And Cat knew she was lucky in that sense, remembering hearing about how Jade’s dad was always getting a new job, or how Robbie’s parents were always hounding him about what he spent money on (like his make-up, which Cat had thought was fun and cool because it made him look nice and feel good). Cat had _good parents_ , and she knew that, but why didn’t it feel like enough sometimes?

Finally, she managed to speak to Dr. Penny, who’d been waiting patiently, “I’m just frustrated that my parents don’t seem to think Gio and I can handle any bad news about each other. And I hate that I’m frustrated with them because I know they just love us and are trying to protect us. But we’re _adults_.”

“You are,” Dr. Penny confirmed, “And anything either you or your brother are struggling with doesn’t make you children.”

“My parents still seem to think so.”

“Have you talked to them about this? Did you ever let them know that this bothers you?”

“Not...not exactly,” Cat admitted. “I’ve tried to press them, to ask for more information about things, but they always tell me there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe we can work on some strategies for how to ask them for the information you want.”

“Maybe,” Cat replied reluctantly, “Can we talk about something else?” she asked.

“Of course,” Dr. Penny smiled, “What else is on your mind?”

“Well, I heard from my friend Robbie over the weekend. He’s up in San Francisco for this comedy festival. It officially runs a week, but then there are workshops and stuff before and after, so he’s going to be up there for almost two weeks.”

“That sounds fun,” Dr. Penny replied. Cat had only mentioned Robbie in passing, as far as she remembered, so Dr. Penny followed up with, “Comedy must be something Robbie is passionate about.”

“Yeah,” Cat agreed, “And he’s really funny. He would always carry around Rex and it was like a constant ventriloquism act at school.” Cat subsided into silence, because Rex was one of those pieces of Robbie that still didn’t make much sense to her. “He was so good that I think we all really believed Rex was his own person most of the time. Not just me, either. Robbie told me that even Lane, our guidance counselor, did a couple’s counseling session with Robbie and Rex.”

Dr. Penny’s eyebrows rose. “That’s definitely unusual.”

“I mean, it was performing arts school,” Cat offered by way of explanation, “Treating Rex as an individual was probably a way everyone showed respect for Robbie’s art.” It was an explanation, but also a bit of a defense of Lane. Cat really liked Lane. Unlike other psychiatrists or therapists she saw in her teens, she felt like Lane actually listened to her when she visited his office. He’d also helped her develop some strategies to make sure she finished her schoolwork on time, and developing the habit of keeping a schedule and the ability to manage her time had served her well, even outside of school, with things like the babysitting business.

Dr. Penny laughed, “That’s true. There were probably quite a few things that made your high school experience unusual.”

“Probably,” Cat agreed. She was still thinking about Robbie, though. “I guess, I’m just really happy for Robbie, but also…” she trailed off.

The silence stretched for a moment before Dr. Penny prompted, “Whatever you’re feeling is okay to tell me, Cat.”

“I guess...it’s complicated. Not, like, how I feel about Robbie. But I’m happy for him, but a little sad for me? And also guilty.”

“Tell me about what makes you feel sad and guilty,” Dr. Penny encouraged.

“Robbie knows he wants to pursue comedy, and I’m really happy for him. But it just makes me remember that I don’t know what I want to do. I like music and acting and I know I’m good at both. And the fall is kind of slipping away from me, and I’ll be choosing classes for next semester of community college before I know it, and I don’t even know where to start.” She paused, thinking. “I guess I have Robbie to help me with that, because he put off starting community college to wait for me. And even though he wanted to do it, it makes me feel bad. Like I did something wrong and messed up his plans.”

“Robbie has the ability to make his own choices,” Dr. Penny replied reasonably, but kindly. “It sounds like you like the fact that you’ll have his support when you start classes. Maybe it all worked out for the best.”

“I guess,” Cat thought, trying to brush away the melancholy that seemed sort of out of place in her life right now. But she did have to admit it felt better to at least _say_ some of what had been weighing on her.

“How are things going with Sam?” Dr. Penny asked, seeming to sense that Cat wanted to shift away from talking about school.

Cat felt her face brighten at the mention of her girlfriend. “Really good,” she replied, “She started seeing a therapist of her own, which I’m proud of her for. She hasn’t said much about that, though. But she and her friend from back home are helping me put together an online shop.”

“Tell me about that,” Dr. Penny encouraged.

“Well, it’s for doll clothes. I told you about that werewolf costume I started making for one of the girls we babysit. I finished it this week. But I’ve been enjoying making tiny clothes for dolls and stuffed animals and I think kids will really like the things I can make. And Sam encouraged me to do this, but she was very clear that it’s just for what I feel like making and selling. Like, there isn’t any particular goal with it. But I’m excited about it.”

“I can tell,” Dr. Penny said, “You really light up when you talk about this.”

“Yeah. I’ve always been pretty good at costuming,” Cat said matter-of-factly. “I took some classes in it at Hollywood Arts and the teacher said I had a knack for it. I also have a really good eye for people’s measurements.” She considered this, eyeing Dr. Penny briefly, but decided to refrain from demonstrating her skill, unless Dr. Penny asked.

But Dr. Penny apparently didn’t want her to prove her talent, which was fair, and instead said, “It sounds like a bold new venture for you, but it also sounds like you have Sam’s support and that you’ll be allowed to take things at your own pace. And it’s really good to see that it looks like something you’re really going to enjoy doing.”

“Yeah,” Cat said thoughtfully. “Sam is really great like that.”

“Have you ever considered doing something with costumes professionally? It seems like something you’re really passionate about.”

The seed of a similar thought had been forming as they talked, since Cat had just been talking about being uncertain about acting and singing. “I don’t really know,” she replied, “I kind of like everything. But I _am_ really good at it.”

“You can be good at a lot of things, but sometimes finding what fulfills you is more important,” Dr. Penny told her. “Maybe this online business will give you a sense of whether this is an avenue worth pursuing.”

Cat nodded, “Maybe so.”

But Cat wasn’t thinking so much about the future, later that evening as she and Sam started working on her website. Sometimes, with Sam next to her, it was hard to think beyond the reality of the very pleasant present.

They were sitting in the dining nook, cozied up to each other as Sam scrolled and clicked through the never-ending list of storefront templates on the EZsell website. Cat was excited about the idea of launching an online shop, especially once Sam had assured her it was only supposed to be for whatever Cat felt like making, there was no pressure to meet any certain demand from anyone but herself.

"Is it just me or do all of these look the same?" Sam asked, rhythmically tapping and sliding her fingers on the trackpad.

"They're all a little different," Cat replied. But, Sam was right. There didn't seem to be that much variety. But they needed to pick something to get started. As they kept looking, Cat nudged Sam's arm, smiling when Sam automatically lifted it up to let Cat snuggle even closer and then settled it around Cat's shoulders.

Sam shook her head. "No, I swear I've seen the same one at least five times now."

In response, Cat nudged her nose against Sam's neck, pleased at the way it caused Sam to stop, if only briefly, what she was doing. "I think the fonts were different," Cat considered as she began to line Sam's jaw with a dozen tiny kisses.

"I think...I don't really care about fonts," Sam muttered, her head tipping back to allow Cat to continue what she was doing.

Cat reached up to tilt Sam's face in her direction, then kissed her, smiling against the warmth of the lips that met her own. Kissing was one of Cat's favorite parts of the day, something that had been missing up until it wasn’t and, from then on, it was a regular thing they did, right up there with watching a favorite show together or arguing over which ice cream place had the best chocolate sauce. It was just part of their time spent together.

In addition to the welcome affection, there had been something else building as their kissing sessions had shifted to longer make-out sessions, ones that left them both a little breathless as they lay together on the couch (or more recently, in bed). And now, here, sitting together at the kitchen table, Cat felt it, that ticklish pull somewhere in her ribcage, the one that surged when she felt Sam's tongue against her own. And then it tripled when she felt a gentle hand slide up, carefully and tentatively, and cup around her breast. Cat's breath caught as she blushed and smiled into the kiss she was still sharing with Sam.

"I like that," she encouraged, nose bumping against Sam’s as they pulled apart, her own hand grabbing a handful of Sam's sweater to pull her even closer, despite the fact that they seemed to already be right on top of each other. She reconnected their lips urgently, greedily.

She could feel Sam's fingers gently stroking against the pink fabric of her sweatshirt, following the curve of Cat's chest, delicate movements that seemed out of place for someone as rough around the edges as Sam Puckett. Cat's hand that was wrapped up in Sam's shirt finally relaxed and she guided her own fingertips over the soft rise of her girlfriend's breast, taking in the way Sam shifted, ever so slightly, with a barely audible groan, as she did.

Once, over the summer (before the hospital), she remembered Tori mentioning something about Jade distracting her with her boobs. At the time, Cat mostly just thought it was funny, because Jade's boobs were kind of a thing everyone noticed and Jade knew everyone noticed them, so she'd use that to her advantage. But now that Cat had a handful of Sam’s breast resting against her palm, even though the thick fabric of her sweater, Cat realized there was much more to what Tori was talking about. Now that Cat was, in essence, feeling up her girlfriend, she was imagining what it might be like to do much more than she was, right now. 

Though, it was really hard to think about much of anything when Sam was touching her, gently grabbing at her, drawing light whimpers out of her, all while they were tucked away in the dining nook, kissing fervently. Cat was grateful they were wedged into the space, actually, because if she'd been able to easily lie down, she would have, and there was no telling where things might have gone. Not that she was worried about anything. Sam was cautious and chivalrous and always making sure Cat was okay with what they were doing together. Cat knew it was because Sam had more experience than she did, but she also knew they were both trying to pace themselves as they explored their new relationship.

And since this pacing was allowing her the time to explore the feeling of the soft contours of Sam’s breast beneath her hand, hearing the way it made her breath catch as they kept kissing, paired with the tingles of pleasure Sam’s touch produced in her, Cat was perfectly fine staying here for _a while_.

-

“So, how are things going between you and Cat?” Lanelle asked.

It was Sam’s first official appointment with Lanelle, the week after her preliminary appointment to get them on track, and it seemed like a natural place to start, given that her whole reason for being in therapy in the first place had to do with learning how to be an actual good girlfriend. “Good, I think,” Sam replied, “No fights or anything since we last talked,” she clarified.

“The fight you told me about sort of had to do with housework, right? At least that’s what prompted it.”

“Yeah,” Sam shrugged. “But I guess it was more about, like, expectations.”

“You indicated on your assessment form that expectations are sometimes challenging for you,” Lanelle observed.

“Yeah, and I think we’re starting to figure out how to better manage housework between the two of us. I’m getting better at anticipating what Cat is going to want me to do so she doesn’t have to ask me.”

“When you say you’re anticipating what Cat is going to ask you to do, is your goal to take responsibility for your workload, or to avoid having a conversation with Cat about housework?”

Sam frowned. “Both, I guess? I mean, it doesn’t do either of us any good if she’s nagging me.”

“What does it look like when Cat nags you?”

Sam paused, then admitted, “I guess she doesn’t, really. I just...I don’t really like being told what to do.”

“That’s not uncommon,” Lanelle said with a smile. “Are there other times when you try to anticipate what Cat might want rather than talking about things?”

It had just been occurring to Sam that maybe there was. “I guess, like, we’ve been getting more intimate, but we haven’t talked much about that. I mean, we’ve talked about like, our sexual histories, but not really...anything else yet.”

Lanelle nodded. Sam was finding it easier to look at her when they were talking about stuff like housework (because she was so easy on the eyes), but when the conversation shifted to intimacy, it was a little harder. Sam wasn’t a prude, but talking about stuff like this with attractive people still had an effect on her. “Does it feel to you that you’re left guessing when it comes to intimacy with Cat? Or are you communicating in the moment?”

“Well, we’re mostly just kissing, but the other day we sort of...rounded second.” Sam glanced up uncertainly, wondering if she’d have to explain the term, “You know,” she tried to confirm.

“I’m familiar,” Lanelle replied, and her smile was reassuring, though amusement danced in dark eyes.

Sam didn’t feel like she was being made fun of, though. “Uh, anyway, it was over the clothes anyway, but it was the first time we’d touched like that. And I took a chance, and Cat told me she liked it, then she was doing it, too. So we did talk about it while it was happening, a little, but we hadn’t talked about it before. But Cat seems to _really_ like everything we do and be open to a lot of it, but I’m trying to like...hold back, because I’ve done more than she has, and I don’t want her to feel pressured.”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions about how Cat feels,” Lanelle pointed out, “It sounds like you might be on the right track with a lot of them, but it only takes one wrong assumption to ruin a moment. Or worse.”

It was a good point and one Sam hadn’t really considered because she felt like she was being so careful. But it was also the last thing she wanted, “Yeah, I’d never want to do anything she didn’t like or want.”

“Then I’d like to encourage you to have a conversation with her about her desires and boundaries, or even what her end goals are with regard to intimacy. Not everyone wants sex to be part of their romantic relationships. Or some people might have some outside influences that contribute a lot to their understanding of boundaries regarding intimacy, like religion.”

“Huh,” Sam grunted thoughtfully. “You know,” she said, “I don’t even know if Cat is religious. Like, she talks about Bible stories sometimes, but it’s not like she goes to church or anything.”

“Is sharing religious views important to you?” Lanelle asked.

“I don’t know. I guess not. I don’t really know that I have any. I mean, we got dragged to church sometimes, but it never seemed to be all that serious. And my grandma thinks we’re Jewish so I had to learn enough about that religion to pretend around her.”

“Why does your grandmother think you’re Jewish?” Though it was probably a question designed to encourage Sam to open up more about her family, Lanelle also just sounded _fascinated_.

“I’m not really sure. My mom probably pretended we’d all converted when she was dating a rabbi or something and then was probably too stubborn to admit it hadn’t happened. But it was cool. I meant I got Hanukkah presents from my grandma and Christmas presents from other people.”

“You mentioned a ‘we’,” Lanelle said. At Sam’s blank look, she elaborated, “ _‘We_ ’ got dragged to church, for example.”

“Oh. Yeah. Me and my twin sister. Melanie.”

“You have a twin?” Lanelle replied, sounding interested.

“Yeah. Identical,” Sam replied, anticipating the most common follow-up question, “In appearance, anyway.”

“So this must be the sister you said moved across the country to get away from your mother,” Lanelle mused.

Sam chuckled, “Yeah. I mean, it was a little more complicated than that. She got a scholarship to a private boarding school. And now she’s in college over there. But when we were younger, she’d spend as much time in Vermont as possible, only come home occasionally. I mean, I know for some kids, boarding school is a threat, but for Melanie, it was one hundred percent better than staying in Seattle.”

“You relocated to the other side of the country, yourself,” Lanelle pointed out. “North to south.”

That was true. “Yeah,” Sam conceded. “But that was much later on.”

“Why did you leave Seattle?”

Sam shrugged even though she knew exactly why. “It was...my best friend Carly was moving away to Italy. She lived with just her older brother for a long time, like most of middle and high school, because her dad was always off doing military stuff. And she liked living with Spencer, but I know she always missed her dad. So when he showed up one night and asked her if she wanted to move to Italy with him, she left with barely enough time to say goodbye. And...it just didn’t seem worth staying anymore.”

“How did it feel to leave Seattle?” Lanelle asked, “Because I can imagine feeling a lot of different things in a situation like that.”

“It was...I guess a little intense, because I was by myself. We went a lot of places for _iCarly_ but always as a group.” She’d filled Lanelle in a little bit about her web show during their preliminary appointment, and Lanelle admitted she had younger cousins who watched it but hadn’t seen it herself, which Sam thought was ultimately a relief. “And I was sad, because of Carly. But mostly, it felt really freeing. I rode around the country on my motorcycle for months before I met Cat and settled here.”

“That’s really remarkable,” Lanelle sounded impressed.

They spent a lot of the rest of the session talking about Sam’s trip around and across the country, how she’d survived and what it had been like being a young woman alone on the road. But when it was time to start wrapping up, Lanelle brought them back to something they’d discussed earlier.

“Now, I won’t tell you what to do,” she started with the kind of smile that made Sam have to look away and collect herself, “But I do want to remind you that we touched on the importance of you discussing intimacy with Cat, and I really want to encourage you to do that. It will help you feel like you don’t have to guess, and you can find out if you’re on the same page with regard to what you might do together in the future.”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, okay. It does make sense.”

“Great,” Lanelle smiled warmly, “Well, I’ll see you in two weeks, Sam. Take care.”

“Right,” Sam replied, getting up awkwardly, “Uh, thanks?” She didn’t know if it was customary to thank a therapist for listening to you for an hour, but she did, and then echoed the “See you in two weeks,” as she left Lanelle’s office.

-

This new thing they were trying, where they’d cuddle together in someone’s bed before sleeping separately for the night, was going really well, in Cat’s opinion. If they went to bed around the same time, they tended to snuggle in Sam’s bed, because there was a little more room for both of them, but if Cat was turning in first, Sam would join her in Cat’s bed, so that Cat was already where she needed to be when she was ready to fall asleep.

Tonight, though, sleep was far from her mind with Sam in bed with her. What had started as sweet cuddling designed to help Cat wind down for sleep had turned into soft kisses, which led to extended kisses, which led to Cat pulling Sam impossibly closer on her twin bed, inviting Sam to touch her by sliding her hand up Sam’s body to settle over the curve of Sam’s breast.

Sam moaned softly against her mouth, and even though she’d stifled the sound a little in her throat, it still filled Cat with a swirling excitement, warmth blooming on her cheeks and in her chest, mind spinning with the knowledge that Sam _wanted_ her. That the kissing and touching they shared made Sam react much like Cat did, eagerly and passionately. But Cat always had the sense that Sam was holding back, with the way her shoulders felt rigid, the way she held back her moans, the way her kisses were responsive, chasing Cat’s lips and tongue, the way her hand over Cat’s breast moved slowly, gently.

It hardly mattered, because every part of it made Cat melt into her mattress. Sam kissed her jaw, hand running down Cat’s side, fingers stroking along the hem of the sweatshirt Cat wore to sleep in. Cat gasped at the sensation of Sam’s fingertips dipping just beneath the fabric and over the skin of her stomach before Sam withdrew her hand, moving it back up to caress Cat’s breast through her top.

Cat couldn’t stop the whimper at the contact, hearing Sam’s satisfied grunt in return, feeling the way her hand grasped a little harder before easing up, and Cat felt warmth spreading all over her body. She’d hardly had the presence of mind to focus on Sam, and she did now, feeling the softness of her breast beneath her hand, listening for the quiet whimpers that told her Sam enjoyed her touch. But then Sam’s hand was back at her waist, hand slipping into the back of Cat’s sweatshirt, palm warm against her lower back, but as she began to move her hand up and around Cat’s body, Sam withdrew her hand with a noticeable jerk, enough that Cat pulled away from their kisses to make sure she was okay.

Sam tried to chase her mouth for just a moment before she seemed to catch Cat’s expression. “What’s going on with you?” Cat asked her.

“I, uh,” Sam swallowed, seeming to collect herself, “I don’t know where the boundaries are.”

“Oh,” Cat replied, trying to figure out just how to respond to that.

“I guess that means we need to talk about it.”

“Well, I...I like what we’re doing right now,” Cat offered.

“Me, too,” Sam exhaled out the words in a rush, “Like, a _lot_. But also...I’ve never been in a situation like this. You and I live together, we have a lot of time and privacy. There isn’t really anything _stopping_ us from doing whatever we want, you know, except us. Anything else I’ve done...we never had that. It was all sneaking around.”

Cat remembered again the way Sam had talked about some of her surreptitious sexual encounters and felt a flare of warmth, like a heated memory of the way they’d kissed on the couch that day. But she focused on the conversation, as difficult as it was in the moment. “Sam, what are you asking me?”

“I guess like...what are we doing? What do you want to do? What do you not want to do? What do you want to wait to do?” Sam paused at the barrage of questions. “I don’t know, I just don’t want to blunder into something you don’t want.”

“I like what we’re doing now,” Cat repeated, “And I...definitely want to do more someday. But for now I like this.”

Sam nodded. “Okay. That helps me.”

“What about what you want?” Cat asked.

Sam exhaled shakily. “I want...a lot of things. But I like this, too. I like this _a lot_.” They were quiet for a long moment, just gazing at each other, Cat watching the way the heat of passion in Sam’s blue eyes faded into affectionate warmth, but her brows were furrowed thoughtfully, and finally, she asked abruptly, “Do you believe in God?” 

The question was so unexpected that Cat almost laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. But the answer that had felt obvious to Cat for most of her life didn’t so much anymore, and she found herself talking it out to Sam. “I don’t really know. I mean, I think so. I like the idea of God. It doesn’t always make full sense, but it _feels_ right?” Sam nodded at her words, but her brow didn’t smooth. “Do you?” Cat asked.

Sam’s shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I dunno. Whether I do or not doesn’t seem to make any difference in my life. My mom only ever cared about religion if she was dating a minister or a rabbi, so I guess it always just seemed fake to me.” Cat nodded in understanding. That much made sense to her. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Sam asked.

“That you’re not religious? No.” Cat replied. It didn’t matter to her at all. It was hard to even think of herself as religious, since it wasn’t something she’d really kept practicing after her parents and brother moved away, or after Nona moved out of the apartment and started attending services at Elderly Acres. But she’d certainly been raised in church, and she’d enjoyed Sunday School. She liked a lot of the Bible stories, and she loved hearing about Jesus, who was always so kind and who never judged anybody.

“I guess I was also just wondering,” Sam started cautiously, “If like...your religious views were a part of...your sexuality.”

“No,” Cat replied, “I was raised in the church, and sometimes certain church officials might say something about gay people, but my parents were always very clear that we didn’t believe that in our family. Mostly because of my uncle and uncle who live in San Francisco.”

“Oh,” Sam’s eyes were wide, “I...wasn’t even thinking about like...that part.”

“What part?”

“I mean, the part about how I…” she trailed off.

“Have a criminal record?” Cat guessed, though it wasn’t a serious guess. She knew what Sam was trying to say.

Sam shot her a smirk, “You’re not exactly squeaky clean yourself.”

“No charges were ever filed against me,” Cat replied primly.

“Well, anyway, what I was trying to say was that...I hadn’t even thought about how church might’ve shaped the way you’d think about us, together. As two women.”

“Oh,” Cat replied, “Well, it didn’t. Then what _were_ you trying to say?”

“I guess I just...want to know that we have the same goal in all this.” When Cat just looked back at her, confused, Sam flushed slightly and said, “You’re not, like, trying to wait for marriage or anything, right? Because I’m not sure I ever--”

“Oh, you’re asking if I want to have sex,” Cat realized.

“N-not right _now_ ,” Sam quickly replied, reddening further.

“No, I know. And I _do_ , Sam. Someday, with you.”

A slow smile spread over Sam’s face. “Yeah?” she asked. “That’s good because...yeah.”

“Right now, I just want us to keep kissing and touching like we have been. I’m really comfortable with that. And I’ll try to make sure I let you know when I’m ready for more, so you’re not left wondering.”

Sam nodded slowly, “Okay, yeah. Okay. I like this plan.”

“Good,” Cat said, “Now kiss me.”

She caught Sam’s grin as she leaned it, reconnecting their lips, her hand moving up Cat’s body with a little more purpose now, more assurance, and Cat whimpered, tugging Sam closer, following the instinct to roll onto her back to bring Sam on top of her, the thrill of it making her stomach clench with need.

But as she did so, she jostled into the pile of carefully arranged stuffed animals against the wall, and several tumbled down, landing on or between herself and Sam. Sam pulled back, looking amused but a little dazed. Cat picked up the stuffed rabbit that had landed on her chest. “Flopsy Bunny,” she sighed in frustration, “Now is not the time.” This was why she sometimes moved all her stuffed animals at bedtime, as tedious a process as it was.

“Tell that to Mr. Pinniped, too,” Sam chuckled, lifting the stuffed seal from where he’d managed to roll under her body.

Cat sighed, pushing the stuffed animals behind her and curling up into Sam’s arms. “I guess maybe that’s my cue to get some sleep,” she said with heavy reluctance.

Sam pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Whatever you need, babe. You want me to stay?”

Cat hummed, gripping at Sam’s shirt, “Just for a minute,” she replied, then sighed, “I’m so happy you love me.” 

Sam’s arms tightened around her in an affectionate squeeze. “Pretty damn happy you love me, too,” she replied.

Cat snuggled closer, letting herself enjoy all the other aspects of Sam’s closeness that didn’t have to do with being touched or kissed. The scent of her, like hairspray and the everpresent lingering fragrances of motorcycle exhaust and leather. The feeling of strong, protective arms around her.

She reflected that, for a long time, her stuffed animals represented safety to her, but now she was finding so much more of that feeling with Sam. Sam, who made her feel understood, who protected her, who never wanted to see her cry. Cat loved her stuffed animals, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to just throw them away or anything drastic, but she was beginning to consider that she might want some more room on her bed, so that Sam could always lie down with her when Cat needed her.

She gave Sam a final squeeze and murmured, “Okay, I’m going to sleep now.”

“Okay,” Sam replied quietly, easing out of bed and then leaning over to press one more kiss to Cat’s lips, a kiss that lingered slightly. “Good night. I’ll be back later.”

“I’ll be here,” Cat giggled, watching Sam as she silently moved through the room, easing the door shut behind her.

And when she was alone in the bedroom, Cat closed her eyes and brought herself back to all the sensations from earlier, to Sam’s mouth on her jaw, her hand dipping under the hem of her shirt, the way Cat’s hand fit over her breast. Cat had calmed down in Sam’s arms before sending her away, but she also felt like she was still a little too aroused to sleep. She didn’t have the security of knowing Sam was asleep in the other bed, but she didn’t anticipate being interrupted for awhile, either.

Cat let the memory of sensation continue to flood her mind, the echoes of sensation like ghostly touches on her skin, except not unsettling, instead leaving pleasurable goosebumps in their wake, spurring her to let her hand slide down her body and into her pajama pants. This was new for Cat, this kind of fantasy that was based on experience and possibility. Before, she’d always think about scenarios she’d seen in movies or read in books, romantic or steamy scenes between characters (or even, sometimes, fanfiction; Jade had told her once there was some good stuff out there for _Bite Me University_ , a show Jade loved and had introduced her to). Cat had heard people talk about their sexual awakenings, and for them, it was usually tied to specific people, usually actors, sometimes even cartoon characters; Jade had told her once that her sexual awakening had been both Aladdin _and_ Jasmine, and it had taken Cat a moment to realize that Jade meant them as individuals, and not in the way Cat did. She thought her true sexual awakening had been the scene with Jack and Rose in the car in _Titanic_ , because it was her first masturbatory fantasy.

And for a long time that had satisfied her, thinking about other couples, and the love and sex they might share. It was never about inserting herself into the scenario for Cat. Even when Cat had crushes on Jade or Robbie, she hadn’t wanted to fantasize about doing anything sexual with them (at least not beyond kissing, though those were more idle daydreams than masturbation fodder). It just felt...wrong to think about them like that. Not because she’d worry what they might think or anything like that, but because Cat worried it would make her sad, to dwell on dreams that might never happen, to let herself place her pleasure in the hands of another person who wasn’t even aware she’d given them such power. The chance of hurt was too great.

But now, with Sam, a whole _world_ of possibility was open to Cat. Sam loved her, Sam had already touched her and kissed her in ways no one else had, and they were only going to explore more. The certainty of it made Cat’s vivid, fantastical imagination come to life, and she imagined how it would feel for Sam’s hands to slide up her shirt, like they’d so _clearly_ wanted to do, like Cat _definitely_ wanted them to do even though she feared being overwhelmed by it. Her fingers moved between her legs as she considered where Sam might touch her, and how she might touch Sam. It may be new to her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t eager to explore. She brought herself to orgasm with jumbled thoughts of kissing her way up Sam’s bare torso, Sam’s hands slipping into her pants, Sam’s fingers replacing her own.

Like most of her orgasms, she stayed quiet, holding her breath to keep from crying out, and stayed as still as possible. Even before sharing a room with Sam, she’d been discreet when living with her parents and Nona. It wasn’t something anyone in her family talked about, and though she’d learned in school that it was normal, she definitely didn’t want anyone else to know she did it. Except Sam.

She got up to visit the bathroom one more time before sliding back into bed, now ready to fall asleep. It wasn’t until she was nearly asleep that the thought hit her.

If she had done that in here, just now, _what had Sam been doing in the living room_?

The thrill of it woke her up so that by the time Sam came back to bed, Cat was still awake. She watched Sam discreetly, the way she moved quietly around the bedroom. Cat lay listening to her in the bathroom getting ready for bed, and then watched her through half lidded eyes as she vaulted herself up into her bed. She was harder to see up on her elevated bed, but Cat listened to her sigh and shift around, getting comfortable, until her breathing evened out.

Cat was able to fall asleep, then, feeling engulfed in Sam’s comforting presence, even across the room.

-

“Okay, look up and hold still,” Cat directed her.

“I promise I _do_ understand makeup,” Sam griped, but she let Cat apply the eyeliner to her lower lid. Okay, Sam’s beauty routine was pretty basic, but she’d learned a lot from Carly once she decided to finally start listening. And one thing she learned was that it was much easier for her to learn to do her own makeup than to sit still and let someone else do it for her. It was the opposite of her philosophy in most things, but when it came to her own face, Sam preferred not to let other people put things close to her eyes.

“I know you do,” Cat pulled away to meet Sam’s eyes reassuringly as Sam allowed herself to blink, “But I also want to make sure we get your Jade look _right_. It’s important for our costumes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam drawled, knowing she wouldn’t be expending this much effort on it herself. “What else?”

“Close your eyes,” Cat directed, and Sam did. 

After Cat declared Sam’s makeup _perfect_ , they put on the borrowed wig from Tori, which Cat explained that they were not to tell Jade about under any circumstances. Sam wondered if Cat herself was going to be able to keep this secret, given her track record. Next came a low-cut sleeveless shirt in a dark color, which Sam owned, and then a black studded skirt Cat had borrowed from Jade (after explaining that she was going as a “hot witch” for Halloween to legitimize borrowing Jade’s clothes). Sam completed the outfit with a pair of black tights and the boots she wore to ride her motorcycle, and Cat nodded in satisfaction.

“You make a _really_ good Jade,” Cat said approvingly.

“Do I make a better Jade than I do you?” Sam asked, referencing the previous Halloween when she’d gone as Cat.

“Well, you wouldn’t do my voice, so probably. You’re going to do a Jade voice, right?”

“Uh, sure,” Sam thought for a moment, then dropped her voice a little and tried to make it sound harsher. “My roommate prays for me because I’m a bisexual witch,” she attempted.

Cat laughed, “Not bad!”

Sam hitched her chin at Cat. “What about you? Guests should be here soon.”

“I’ll get into the costume!” Cat flounced away to the bathroom, and Sam headed out to the living room to make sure everything else was ready to go for their Halloween party. Cat had decorated with the attention to detail she usually gave to holidays, with skeletons, pumpkins, flashing eyeballs, cobwebs. There was a big bucket of candy for the guests, a smaller bucket of sour candy for the trick or treaters (they didn’t get that many, but Sam was less likely to binge on sour candy because it hurt the tongue after a while). Cat had made hot spiced apple cider to drink and a variety of other snacks--cupcakes decorated like spiders, brownies topped with gravestones, chips with dip in a jack-o-lantern shaped bowl. 

Sam thought it would be a good chance to hang out, and Cat had clearly been looking forward to it. They were inviting Dice and Goomer alongside Cat’s Hollywood Arts friends--Tori and Jade, of course, but also Andre and Robbie (Beck, who Sam had really only met in passing, was apparently out of town hair modeling, which, the fact that Sam now knew _two_ people who did this...but, she guessed, that was LA for you). The age range of the guest list meant that no one was bringing alcohol, but, maybe because they’d been talking about it, Jade had indicated to Sam that she and Tori might bring some weed.

Sam wondered if she should talk to Cat about her intention to try smoking weed with their friends. She knew that the medical framework around legal cannabis in the state was kind of bullshit but also kind of not, and she’d heard stories about it being an effective treatment for some of the symptoms of ADHD, like focus and motivation. Sam didn’t even really know what kind of effect she was looking for on a night like tonight, or even how to assess whether weed itself would be helpful or a detriment to her mental state, but she knew she didn’t like pills, and marijuana wasn’t something her mom was into (she didn’t like the smell, but cigarettes were fine, go figure). 

Cat came bounding out from the back, wearing jeans, a blue t-shirt with a butterfly on it that Sam had never seen before, a pink blazer, and an equally unfamiliar tall pair of boots. She wore a brunette wig and her makeup was different, not in a way that Sam could quite place, but it seemed a little subtler than Cat’s normal look.

“Hi, I’m Tori Vega!” Cat beamed, “I’m kind of a nerd,” she stage-whispered.

“Yeah, you are,” Sam drawled, forgetting the Jade voice. She cleared her throat and tried again, “Yeah, a _hot_ nerd.”

Cat giggled in response and walked over to loop her arms around Sam’s waist. She spoke in her normal voice, “I’m _so_ excited for everyone to see our costumes!”

Sam grinned back, “Me, too.” She wanted to kiss her girlfriend, but also, it seemed weird when Cat was embodying Tori. So instead, she decided to bring up the idea she’d just been musing about. “So, I was talking to Jade about, like, Tori’s mom’s business,” she started.

“Holly’s Herbal Remedies?” Cat nodded.

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed, “And Jade indicated that she and Tori might bring some stuff tonight. I kind of want to try it.” She was aware that she wasn’t asking permission, because that wasn’t something she would need to clear with Cat, anyway. She just wanted to let Cat know what might be happening, give her a chance to voice any objections. She anticipated one. “We can do it, like, way out on the patio, out of sight. Not in front of Dice.”

But Cat just nodded again, “Okay. Have fun!”

Was it really that simple? Sam guessed it was. “Okay, I just wanted to let you know.”

“I know you can handle yourself,” Cat replied, “And keeping Dice out of it is all I would worry about. And Goomer, too, since Dice is always very strict about what substances he’s allowed to take.” That was true. Even Goomer’s vitamin and supplement regimen was carefully structured by Dice.

“Yeah, Dice likes following rules too much to join us anyway,” Sam shrugged. “And honestly, I can’t see Goomer reacting well to weed.”

Cat giggled, “Me neither,” she agreed, and leaned in to kiss her, and Sam saw her very clearly as _Cat_ in costume in that moment, when the doorbell rang. Cat pulled away from the kiss, “I’ll get it,” she smiled.

“I’ll come with you,” Sam replied, figuring their couples costume would work best if they were seen at the same time.

It turned out their first guests to arrive were all four of the Hollywood Arts crew, and Sam had just enough time to do a double-take of Tori’s costume (because she was dressed as a man) before Cat stepped in front of her to usher them in. “Welcome!” she spoke in a voice lower than what she usually used.

The four of them stepped inside, and Robbie said, “Cat...what _are_ you?”

Cat spread her arms, then planted them on her hips in some kind of exaggerated posture that Sam figured must be a Tori thing she’d never noticed before. “Can’t you tell? _I’m_ Tori Vega, and I make it shine!” She reached over and slipped her arm around Sam’s waist. It felt _nice_ , and Sam tried to maintain her scowl. “This is my hot girlfriend--”

Sam interrupted her, “Yeah, I’m Jade West. I like darkness. And scissoring.”

“ _The Scissoring_ ,” Cat corrected her.

“Yeah, that too,” Sam drawled.

It made their guests burst out laughing, though Cat just frowned at her. Jade herself stepped forward, dressed in some long, tight, black dress. “Yeah, no,” Jade said sharply. “If you’re going to be me, we need to fix something.” She caught Sam’s eye, hands hovering in front of her chest. “I’m coming in,” she stated, clearly seeking permission to touch her. 

“Sure, whatever,” Sam stood still, spreading her arms a little to give Jade access to her body. Jade’s hands were suddenly on the underside of Sam’s boobs, pushing up. Sam flinched back a little, because even expecting it, it was kind of a lot.

“Hold still,” Jade commanded, adjusting Sam’s bra straps and tugging down at the neckline of her shirt. _Art school kids_ , Sam reminded herself. Wardrobe assistance was commonplace for them. It wasn’t entirely unlike some of the times she and Carly had put on specific outfits for _iCarly_ and checked each other over, though Carly had never adjusted Sam’s boobs for her. “Now just reach in and lift ‘em up,” she instructed. Sam stared incredulously for a moment, then obeyed. “Much better,” Jade sounded satisfied.

Sam looked down at her cleavage, which was now _prominently_ displayed. “Oh. Huh,” she stared for a long moment.

“You’re welcome,” Jade chuckled.

“Wait,” Tori frowned beneath the moustache she was wearing, “Cat, you...know about the scissoring thing, right?” she asked.

“Oh, you mean that Jade’s favorite movie is also a sex thing?” Cat replied, her eyes also on Sam’s cleavage, “Yeah, Jade told me about her ZapLook misadventure back in junior high. I just didn’t know if _you_ knew, and since I’m playing you...” Cat turned to their guests and put on that same frown she’d been wearing before.

“I know what it means!” Tori burst out.

“Yeah, but you didn’t know to plug in your headphones to watch porn,” Jade teased.

“ _Jade_!”

“Whoa,” Andre held up his hands, “Didn’t need to know that.”

“Oh, Sam knows to do that,” Cat supplied in a helpful tone, apparently ignoring Andre completely, eyes back on Sam’s chest. Whether it was a character choice, or a Cat thing, Sam couldn’t tell.

“ _Cat_!” Sam groaned.

“Or that,” Andre and Robbie said at the same time.

Sam had been focused on pretending to be Jade, but now she’d been forced to break character by Cat calling her out, she was taking in the details on the costumes their guests were wearing, and Tori and Jade’s couples costumes suddenly clicked. “Okay, so, you two are the Addams Family.”

“Gomez and Morticia Addams,” Tori supplied with a grin, her voice pitched lower, slightly accented.

“The 90s films version,” Jade clarified further. 

“You two look great,” Cat gushed, sounding like she was trying to get back into a Tori voice, but was too excited.

They did look great, though. Tori’s hair was tucked up under a short wig and she wore a little pencil moustache and a black and white striped suit with a bowtie. Jade wore a long, tight, long-sleeved black dress that flared out at the bottom like tentacles trailing along behind her, her hair was straight, her nails painted red, and her makeup was heavy. They gravitated toward each other, and Tori murmured, “ _Cara mia_ , _”_ and pressed an exaggerated series of kisses to Jade’s knuckles, which made her smile.

Sam let them have their moment, turning her attention to Andre and Robbie, “I’m not sure what’s going on with you two.”

Andre looked slightly offended. “I’m Prince,” he declared, gesturing to his purple suit, his ruffled tuxedo shirt. He ran his hand over his upper lip. “I even grew out my moustache for this.”

“I’m more impressed with Tori’s, to be honest,” Sam ribbed.

“Hey!” Cat pouted.

“No, I mean,” Sam sighed, “ _Gomez_ ’s.”

“Thank you,” Tori replied in a low purr, though her attention was still entirely on Jade as she kissed her way up Jade’s arm.

“What about you?” Sam directed at Robbie.

“I’m a...Rock Lobster!” he declared, clicking the lobster claws he wore like oven mitts over his hands and turning to show his lobster tail.

“Or,” Cat said in her Tori voice, “A Rock Robster. Eh? Eh?”

“Okay, I get the lobster part--” but as Sam said it, she noticed that he was wearing a David Bowie t-shirt, “Got it,” she nodded.

“Well, Jade and I are happy you’re here,” Cat said, still sounding like Tori. “So please, make yourselves comfortable, enjoy the snacks.” She snuggled up closer to Sam and nuzzled her cheek, which made Sam grin. The doorbell rang, and Cat said, “I’ll get it!”

Behind the door were Dice and Goomer, who were welcomed in. Dice was wearing slacks and a leather vest with prop knives tucked into it, as well as a long wig and a handlebar moustache, with tattoos drawn all over his arms and chest. He carried a plastic machete. Goomer wore a baggy tunic and boots and he looked disappointed.

“Whoa,” Sam said, forgetting her Jade persona entirely. “Dice, are you Machete?”

“Yeah!” he replied excitedly, “Isn’t it awesome?”

“Hell yeah it is!” Sam crowed, “Man, I wish I’d thought of that for this year. I’d have a _real_ machete though.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Cat refuted.

“You were supposed to be Inigo Montoya,” Goomer drawled pitifully. “For our _Princess Bride_ costumes.”

“I was _going_ to,” Dice sounded contrite, but also like he’d said this ten times before already, “But then I got this vest, and I _had_ to change it up!”

“Well, it’s not fair, because now I’m Fezzik all by myself,” Goomer pouted. “Maybe I should’ve told you to be Vizzini, since you’re about as a good a friend as he is!”

“Harsh, man,” Dice sounded hurt.

“Your costume is really good, Goomer,” Cat reassured him, switching back to her regular self.

“Thanks!” he smiled widely, “Yours, too.”

“Yeah, what are you two, though?” Dice asked, looking between them, settling on Sam. “You wanted to be Machete but instead you’re...a witch?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied in her Jade voice, “A bisexual witch.”

“Uh huh,” Dice looked uncertain. “And you’re…” he stared at Cat, “I don’t know, a businesswoman?”

“I’m Tori Vega!” Cat burst out happily.

“They’re _us_ ,” Jade sighed from behind them.

“Oh, got it,” Dice nodded, looking at Jade now. “And you’re...a witch?” he ventured again.

“There are more costumes for girls than just _witches_ you know,” Robbie put in from over near the food spread where he stood with Andre.

“Gomez Addams,” Tori approached, offering her hand, “A pleasure to meet you. My wife, Morticia,” she gestured to Jade. Dice nodded slowly, clearly trying to make sense of it.

“Ooooh,” Goomer uttered in recognition, “You should’ve told me, I’d have been your Lurch!” He scowled at Dice, “Since my _best friend_ let me down.”

“I told you _I’m sorry_!” Dice gesticulated wildly.

They spread out into the house, everyone chatting and enjoying the snacks for a while. Cat stayed tucked up next to Sam as much as possible, which did seem to be pretty accurate for the way Tori and Jade often were, but also felt to Sam like the two of them enjoying their closeness. It was one of the first opportunities they had to be openly together in front of a group of friends larger than just Tori and Jade, and Sam liked that no one really treated them any differently. Even Robbie, who Sam knew Cat had kind of a complicated history with, was clearly nothing but happy for them.

“So, have you heard from Freddie lately?” Robbie asked her.

“Uh, yeah,” Sam replied in her own voice, unable to figure out how Jade would respond to such a question. “He was helping Cat and I with--wait, why do you ask?”

“No reason!” Robbie turned slightly red, “Just...he doesn’t always respond when I text him, so I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“Yeah, as far as I know.” Sam eyed Robbie. “How often are you texting him?”

“I don’t know! Not _that_ often.”

“Uh huh,” Sam said skeptically. She chose her next words carefully because although she was pretty sure Robbie’s interest in Freddie was romantic, she also didn’t think he’d been entirely open about it. “Listen, a word of advice about someone like Freddie...he tends to really be drawn to the people that reject him constantly. You know. The unattainable ones?” She shrugged, “The more you pursue him, the less interested in you he’s likely to be.”

“Huh,” Robbie nodded slowly, “I can relate to that.”

“Yeah, so, maybe wait for him to text _you_.” Sam didn’t even know if Freddie was interested in guys, or in a friendship with Robbie, if that’s all that was being offered. But it had been surprising enough to find out about Carly liking women and, like her, Freddie had said a _few_ things about men over the years that made it seem _possible_ in retrospect...but either way, she might be helping a romance or a friendship bloom, or she might just be making things easier for Freddie, so he wouldn’t have to field a bunch of unwanted texts from Robbie.

“Who carved this pumpkin?” Andre asked Cat, gesturing to one Sam had done of a cat silhouetted against the moon. 

“Sam did!” Cat replied excitedly, squeezing her arm in a way that felt entirely like herself and not like her Tori persona. “She’s _so good_ at stuff like that.”

“I’m alright,” Sam shrugged, “That one wasn’t hard.”

“It’s really cool,” Andre praised, “I can never get a pumpkin to do what I want it to.”

Cat’s grip on her arm tightened, “You should’ve seen our house last Halloween,” Cat told him. “A haunted doll carved a really creepy pumpkin.”

Next to Sam, Robbie was abruptly yanked back with a yelp, revealing Jade. “What, now?” Jade asked, her attention clearly piqued, “A haunted doll?”

Tori shivered, “Ugh, now I’m thinking of that horrifying movie you took me to see.”

“Hey, _Ghost Doll_ was our first date, and that means that even though it was terrible, it’s automatically great,” Jade smirked. “But seriously, Cat, you never told me any stories about a haunted doll in your apartment.”

“Yeah, it was really weird,” Cat began telling the story. It was clear she had everyone’s attention. “This weird guy came claiming he was dropping off his daughter to be babysat...oh, what was his name,” Cat frowned.

“Mr. _Drange_ ,” Sam intoned in the drawn-out, strangely accented voice the man used.

“Yes, that was it!” Cat nodded.

“ _Daddy loves you_ ,” Sam continued in the same voice, the phrase she’d used repeatedly that night to mock the weird dude.

Cat shrieked and covered her ears. “No! Don’t say it!”

Sam noticed the way their guests looked disturbed and a little confused. “So, you’re Daddy _and_ Mama?” Jade asked, amused. 

“No, it’s just what Mr. Drange said to his doll. But we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves.”

“Right,” Cat nodded, “So Mr. Drange said he wanted us to watch his daughter but then he dropped off something like a Fresno Girl Doll and talked to her like she was real and _weird_ stuff kept happening. Like, once we turned around and found her standing next to a carved pumpkin holding a knife. And we were in the room with her the whole time!”

Sam frowned, “I thought that happened when we came back to the living room from the bedroom.”

Cat shook her head earnestly, “No, we were there the whole time, talking about Dice being a monkey!” Sam didn’t really want to argue with Cat about it, but she was sure they’d followed Dice’s aunt’s helper monkey into the bedroom when it first came into the house, then came back out front to find the doll. It was a minor thing, so Cat kept talking. “We did go back into the bedroom when monkey-Dice pooped on your bed and then came back out front to find the haunted doll watching TV with her own bowl of popcorn.” Cat glanced at Sam as if to confirm that piece of the story, and Sam nodded.

“I _knew_ she was just a doll,” Sam put in, “But I also can’t explain what was actually happening.”

“It was _also_ a wild night because we thought I turned Dice into a monkey--”

“ _You_ thought you turned Dice into a monkey,” Sam corrected.

“Okay, but you couldn’t explain that either! Not until Dice told us what was really going on.” Cat said defensively. “So we had monkey-Dice running around, a doll who moved by herself. We took her to that concert, right?” Cat asked.

“We did,” Sam confirmed, “Del DeVille. Really good show until he kicked us out because _apparently_ he was freaked out by that doll!”

“Oh, man, I think I heard something about a weird disturbance with fans at that concert,” Andre put in, “That was you guys?”

“Yeah. It was _such_ a weird night. I still wonder about it sometimes,” Cat said.

“I was happy just leaving it in the past,” Sam replied simply. Truthfully, though she wasn’t about to admit it here, that doll had kinda freaked her out. It was about then that she noticed that Dice was stifling laughter into his palms. “ _Dice_.”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“What’s so funny?”

He abruptly burst out, “I got you _so good_! You cannot _believe_ how long I’ve been waiting for you to talk about that night!”

“What do you mean, you _got us good_?” Cat frowned, her grip on Sam’s arm tightening again.

“I mean that I _pranked you so hard_!” he crowed.

Sam glared at him, “What did you do, Dice?”

“Well, originally I was just planning to prank you with my Aunt Fergene’s helper monkey since Cat was so obsessed with that spellbook. But then I overheard when that guy dropped off that doll, and I figured if I could distract you with the monkey...I could probably get away with sneaking around your apartment and moving the doll. Which I did. _I_ switched out the pumpkin! _I_ put her on the couch with the popcorn!” He jabbed at them with his finger, “I got you so good!”

“How did you--” Sam started, then huffed angrily, “Okay, but you didn’t get us kicked out of Del DeVille’s concert.”

“No, that’s true,” Dice cocked his head to the side, “That _is_ really weird.”

“But then,” Cat said slowly, “How did you make her turn into a real girl when Mr. Drange came to pick her up?”

The room was silent for several seconds, and Dice looked from Cat to Sam in alarm. “I...didn’t?”

“That...didn’t happen, babe,” Sam said gently.

“But I--” Cat sighed. “Oh.” Cat lapsed into a terse silence for a moment, and then spoke in Tori’s voice, “Anyway, that was last year, and this is this year, so let’s have some fun!”

“Yeah, let’s,” Jade spoke quietly to Sam as individual conversations began to happen around them; next to her, Sam could hear Cat asking Robbie to tell her everything about his trip to the comedy festival. “You want to come join us?”

For a strange moment, maybe because of the way Jade’s arm was still around Tori affectionately, Sam briefly thought she was being asked to make out with them both, which was jarring. But then she caught the way Tori raised her eyebrows and hitched her chin at Andre, who replied with a cool nod of his own, and suddenly, it clicked. “Yeah, okay,” Sam replied.

Sam led the way to the patio door, and Goomer asked them, “Where are you guys going?”

“Just getting some air, don’t worry about it,” Sam reassured him.

“Kay kay,” Goomer grinned back. Robbie and Cat were still focused on their conversation, and it seemed that Dice, too, was interested in what Robbie had to say.

Sam closed the patio door behind the little group and then led them further to the end of the patio space, where they had a gate that led to what amounted to a driveway out of the apartment complex. “Cat didn’t want to join us?” Andre asked Sam.

Sam shook her head, “Nope. Didn’t really seem interested.”

“She never really has,” Jade mused, “Even the couple of times Beck and I tried a little, she didn’t want to join us.”

“She’s okay with us doing this, right?” Tori checked in with Sam.

“Yeah, she’s fine. She just doesn’t want it to be openly happening in front of Dice and Goomer.” She nodded over her shoulder. “Robbie isn’t joining us, either?”

“Nah, he’s our designated driver,” Andre replied. “He may be weird as hell, but he’s a good dude, really.”

“Guess every group needs that square friend,” Sam agreed. Though, for her, she wasn’t sure if Freddie or Carly was more square. Probably Freddie, since the move to Italy seemed to have awakened part of Carly that was much bolder than the best friend she remembered. It was kind of a good look for Carly, though.

“Well, without further ado,” Tori said, pulling out a cinnamon mint tin and opening it to show them a short, thin joint. “I’m not that good at rolling yet,” she admitted, “But this is a hybrid strain my mom says is pretty balanced, called Dharma Initiative. So it shouldn’t freak anybody out or put anybody to sleep,” she explained.

“Sounds good to me. Spark it up,” Andre encouraged.

Tori smiled slightly and pulled out a lighter, taking a draw from the joint as she lit it, rotating it a little as she did so. She exhaled with a cough and passed it to Jade. “Ugh,” she managed, “I don’t love how smoking makes my throat feel.”

“Me neither,” Jade agreed, before taking her own drag and coughing herself, passing it to Sam. “We’ve had edibles a couple times and smoked a few times now, and the high is definitely different between the two.”

Andre nodded along as Sam took her own hit. She was sure she wouldn’t cough, for some reason, but the sensation of it caught her off guard, and she ended up coughing as she passed the joint to Andre. It was a relief when even he coughed, too.

The joint made a couple more rounds around the circle, and everyone coughed less as it went on. By the time they’d all had three hits, Tori said in a scratchy voice, “That’s probably good enough for now, yeah?”

“I’m good,” Andre nodded, “That’s good stuff.”

“It is,” Jade agreed, and turned red eyes to scrutinize Sam, “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, I think,” Sam replied, trying to assess how she felt. Other than the sensation in her throat, she felt about the same. “I don’t really know if I’m high?”

“You are,” Jade assured her, “Just give it a minute to hit.”

“Okay,” Sam shrugged, looking around at the circle of friends. Everything felt a little bit slower and softer somehow, but in a way that felt like it was happening outside of herself, not an internal sensation. She wondered idly if she looked high.

“You know what sounds good right now?” Tori asked, “Those brownies.”

“Oooh, yeah,” Andre nodded, “I want one of those spider cupcakes.”

“Cat’s a hell of a baker,” Sam agreed. Damn, _everything_ sounded good right now.

“I didn’t know Cat was so good at this stuff,” Jade put in.

“Well, she’s had some missteps,” Sam admitted, “If she ever offers you a fudge pile, _don’t_ take it.”

“Noted,” Jade grinned, a much less rigid expression than she normally wore. “Should we head back inside?”

They started for the door, but then, some bold piano chords split the air. Sam turned to see Andre pulling out his phone, “Uh, I’ve got to take this, you guys go in without me.” As Sam let Jade and Tori through the door, Andre walked back toward the gate, and she heard him answer with a lower, smoother voice, “Hey, girl.”

Sam found her eyes drawn to Cat and she grinned as she headed back inside.

-

It was kind of obvious when Sam, Jade, and Tori came in that they were high, but Cat figured the fact that she knew probably contributed to it. Still, it didn’t really matter, as long as everyone was feeling okay. Sam shot her a languid grin and stepped up next to her, slipping an arm around Cat’s waist.

“Where’s Andre?” Cat asked, leaning into Sam. She smelled mostly like herself, with a hint of the recognizable smoky smell of weed, familiar to any Los Angeles native, lingering on her clothes. At least it wasn’t a super skunky kind.

“Taking a phone call,” Sam pressed a kiss to Cat’s head before turning her attention to what Cat was watching.

“No, no,” Dice shook his head at Robbie, “You can’t tuck your thumb in, you’ll break it. And you’ve got to have some followthrough in your punches.”

“I don’t want to _hurt_ him,” Robbie protested, gesturing to Goomer, who was standing squared off, like a human punching bag.

Dice cast Robbie an exasperated look, “Trust me, you won’t.”

“Okay, so…” Robbie stood squared off himself.

“Bring your foot back,” Dice instructed.

“Right,” Robbie said, then directed a very reluctant punch at Goomer.

Cat glanced at Sam, who looked amused. “Okay, that’s a good start,” Dice sounded encouraging.

Robbie glanced around awkwardly, clearly less comfortable with more spectators, “Maybe someone else should have a turn.”

“Oh! I’ll go,” Tori moved as if to bound over to Goomer, then stopped herself, grabbing Jade’s hand and kissing her knuckles, “ _Cara mia_ ,” she drawled in her Gomez Addams voice. Jade looked pleased and intrigued as Tori squared off in front of Goomer, already a step ahead of Robbie as she fell into a more natural fighting stance, fists up.

Dice nodded approvingly, “Alright, you look pretty good, actually.”

Tori shrugged, “My sister takes karate. And she’s crazy. I had to pick up a few things to defend myself.” The way Cat had seen Tori and Trina interact, none of this surprised her. Though they obviously cared a lot about each other, they fought far more than she’d ever fought with Gio. Gio had scared her sometimes, even before his diagnosis, with the brand of older sibling sadism that they’d always end up laughing about later, but they’d never really had conflict.

“Alright then,” Dice shrugged, “Give it a shot.”

Tori sent a punch to Goomer’s chest, then pulled back, shaking out her hand. But it was Goomer who said, “Oww,” as he covered the spot she’d punched.

“Not bad,” Sam nodded, “Why don’t you let Mama take a crack at it?”

“Oh, no,” Goomer held up his hands, “Not you.”

“Why not?” Sam asked, sounding offended.

“You knocked out Rita Rooney,” Goomer accused, “I’m not letting you punch me bare-handed.”

“Gonna agree with Goomer on this one,” Dice agreed warily, “Have to keep my fighter in good shape.”

“What about Cat?” Tori asked, “She can throw a pretty good punch.”

“You can?” Sam asked her with interest.

“I don’t...I don’t _like_ to,” Cat replied, and it was true. She didn’t even really like to watch the fights on TV with Sam, though she was willing to watch Goomer’s matches to support him.

“Who have you punched?” Sam wanted to know, all her attention seeming to focus on Cat.

“Me,” Tori replied.

“ _You_?” Sam asked, surprised.

“Wait, _when_?” Jade asked, equally bewildered.

“You _told_ me to punch you!” Cat declared.

“I didn’t think you actually _would_!” Tori protested, “You almost broke my nose!” Her shoulders slumped, “I deserved it, though.”

Cat shrugged, “I don’t think you did. I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t told me to.”

She noticed that Jade and Sam were exchanging a bewildered glance. “Okay, seriously, _what_?” Sam asked.

“Tori, you tell it if you want to. I’m gonna get some air,” Cat said. She didn’t really have any desire to relive the experience. At this point, she regretted punching Tori in the nose, even if she had been upset with her. And reminiscing on the past once tonight had already left her feeling disoriented and upset, and she didn’t much feel like revisiting her relationship with Daniel. He was a sweet guy, but she and Tori had both clearly moved on.

Still, as she moved to the patio door, she heard Tori say, “The short story is I kissed her boyfriend.”

“You know, for a lesbian, you’ve sure kissed a lot of people’s boyfriends,” Jade drawled, but not maliciously. Instead, she sounded amused. Cat wondered if Jade even a year ago would’ve been able to find the humor in reminiscing about this.

“Oh, shut up, this was way before I realized I was gay. I was very confused--” and that was the last thing Cat heard Tori say before she closed the door.

She noticed Andre standing at the other side of the patio. He spotted her, and then she heard him say, “Hey, I’ve got to go. Can I call you later?” into his phone, his voice soft, intimate. Cat immediately felt bad for interrupting, but he hung up the phone a moment later and sent her a smile, “Hey, Little Red,” he greeted, “You okay?”

Cat giggled, “Am I still Little Red in this wig?” she asked.

He chuckled, “You’re always Little Red to me. But seriously, you okay? You trying to be alone, or…”

Cat shrugged, “No, not really. Just needed a little break from in there.”

“Well, you can talk to me if you want,” Andre offered. His eyelids were heavy and his smile relaxed. Andre was usually pretty easy-going and patient, unless something set him off and he became agitated and anxious, but in his high state, he looked quite calm.

“I guess,” Cat started. She sighed, “It made me a little sad when Sam told me I hadn’t remembered last Halloween correctly.”

Andre nodded slowly, “Yeah, I can see how that would be upsetting.” He paused. “Which part upset you?”

Cat thought about it. “Of course I’m upset to realize that something I thought I remembered didn’t happen. But I’m sort of used to that, too. I know I don’t always see the world like everyone else seems to. I know I’m weird.”

“Yeah, but weird is pretty cool, too, you know?” Andre replied thoughtfully, “It’s part of what makes you fun to perform with.”

“I guess,” Cat replied, knowing full well that all of her Hollywood Arts friends were kind of weird. With the possible exception of Beck. That wasn’t what was bothering her. “Maybe it’s more that like...okay, yes, I probably needed to know that the doll turning into a girl didn’t happen. I don’t need to hold onto weird, false memories.” Though Cat didn’t even know _how_ she was supposed to assess the things she thought she remembered. They seemed so real until she took a moment to really examine them. “But I guess I didn’t like that it happened in front of everyone.”

“You were embarrassed,” Andre suggested.

“Yeah, I think so.”

He gave her another stoned nod, “Then you know I’m not the person you should be talking to about this.”

“What do you mean?” Cat asked.

In answer, Andre nodded toward the glass patio door. Cat turned to look to see their friends inside, laughing and chatting, Tori dipping Jade into a dramatic kiss. Sam seemed to notice her in her peripheral vision and turned to catch her eye, shooting her a smirk that quickly softened into an affectionate smile. She mouthed _you good?_ as she gestured with a questioning thumbs up.

Cat nodded in the affirmative, returning the thumbs up with her own. Sam grinned, making her look _nothing_ like Jade for a moment, and turned her attention back to the action in front of her.

Andre was smiling knowingly as she turned back to him. “You should talk to Sam,” he said simply, “Let her know that it hurt your feelings, and maybe you guys can figure out how to deal with something like this in the future. I mean, I know I don’t really know Sam that well, but I’ve heard some of the stories. Like how she yelled at people who weren’t paying attention to your Baberaham Lincoln one woman show, because she knew it was important to you.”

Cat cracked a smile, “She had kids from the duju next door knock everyone’s phones out of their hands, too.” Though as she said it, she hoped it was a real memory.

To her relief, Andre nodded, “That’s right, I did hear that. And then I heard about how you tried to stop her from doing a dangerous motorcycle stunt, and she had to stop you in return.” He looked past Cat, presumably at Sam, then back to her. “So yeah, I don’t know her that well personally yet, but everything I’ve heard about the two of you...you really care about each other. Like, a lot. So I’m pretty sure that if you talk to her about this, that she’s going to want to do whatever she can to make you feel okay.” He paused. “Sorry, am I rambling?”

“No,” Cat laughed, “No, you’re actually making a lot of sense.”

“Good,” Andre grinned in relief. “You want to go back in?”

“Sure,” Cat replied, “So, who’s the girl you’re talking to?” she asked sweetly.

Andre shook his head, “A very nice girl who I might be falling madly in love with. But we’ll see.” And that was Andre’s pattern, as Cat had always seen it. He’d fall in love, hard and quickly, and burn out just as suddenly. It wasn’t something he did intentionally--it wasn’t a manipulation, or a tactic, it just seemed to be how he operated. Maybe he just wasn’t a long-game kind of guy.

Or maybe he just hadn’t found the right partner yet. Cat knew him well as a friend, but that didn’t mean she knew his inner life. Living with Gio had taught her early, and well, that you never could.

Still, considering Andre’s relationship pattern made Cat look at herself and Sam, and think about her own patterns of unrequited crushes until the moment she discovered Sam loved her, too. And about the fact that what she and Sam had was _so much different_ than anything Sam had experienced previously--a chaste, puppy love relationship with a guy, a friendship with an element of sexual exploration, two dates that ended in fooling around, and...Cat.

Cat had always had a feeling that she was waiting for someone really special to fall in love with. The only real surprise was the way it had arrived, so perfectly and completely, in the package that was Sam Puckett.

-

The party continued on into the evening with chatting, laughter, music, Goomer trying to take Robbie under his wing to learn to fight, but Robbie was hopeless. Aside from being interrupted a couple of times by trick or treaters (none of whom ate their sour candy right in front of her, so what even was the point?), Sam was pretty much glued to Cat’s side all evening, at least once she came back inside with Andre.

Sam headed into the kitchen for a soda at one point, and realized Cat was following her. She grinned at her, “Hey.”

“Hey back,” Cat replied, tilting her head a bit flirtatiously. By this point, Sam was at least used to seeing her in the Tori costume, so it didn’t totally throw her off anymore. 

“You want one?” Sam pulled out a soda, but Cat shook her head.

“No,” she replied, and as soon as Sam shut the refrigerator door, Cat tucked herself up under Sam’s arm affectionately.

It was natural to press a kiss to her cheek, even more natural for Cat’s head to turn to catch her lips, and before Sam knew it, she was swept up in a kiss in the middle of the kitchen, grinning against Cat’s mouth, feeling the way each moment felt longer, more potent.

Because, oh yeah, at a certain point, Sam had realized that she was _definitely_ high, and just what that entailed--from the dry mouth and the hungry belly to the way the world felt more vibrant, just a little bit brighter, and like her mind was allowed to _linger_ on certain things for a while. Certain things like the feeling of Cat’s lips against her own.

“Okay,” she heard Jade’s voice, “ _That_ is a little weird.”

Sam pulled away, groping for a retort, but it was Andre who shrugged and said, “I dunno, looked like something I’ve seen a lot before, just a couple inches shorter.”

“Jealous?” Sam asked in her Jade voice.

Jade looked taken aback, “ _What_?”

Sam squeezed Cat a little closer to her and continued to speak in Jade’s voice. It was mildly easier after smoking. “I asked if you were jealous. My girlfriend is this totally hot nerd, after all.”

“Okay, I do _not_ talk like that,” Jade protested.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Tori waved her finger in Jade’s face, “ _Now_ you see what it’s like!”

Jade rolled her eyes, “Okay, but there is a difference between--”

“ _Now you see what it’s like_!” Cat interrupted, decidedly _not_ using her Tori voice, but something weirdly higher and nasal.

“I don’t _talk like that_!” Tori sounded exasperated. 

Sam had no idea what was going on, but it made her laugh. And then she couldn’t really stop. She stood in the kitchen, a soda in one hand, other hand on Cat’s waist, shaking with giggles she was trying to keep silent, while Cat nuzzled her cheek, and Tori and Jade somehow seamlessly shifted from arguing about who talked like what into dancing. Sam couldn’t even tell if they were being Gomez and Morticia or Tori and Jade in the moment, but damn if those two weren’t endearing.

The party wrapped up before too long. It was Thursday evening, and Andre and Tori both had early classes in the morning. They all thanked Cat and Sam for a nice time, Cat urged them to take some brownies or cupcakes along for the ride (much to Sam’s dismay), and after a round of hugs from Cat and waves from Sam, Dice was on his way back to his apartment, Goomer was getting into his car, and Robbie was preparing to drive Andre, Tori and Jade to their respective homes or dorms. 

Cat shut the door and leaned against it, grinning happily. “I’m really glad we had that party,” she sighed.

Sam nodded, “Me, too,” she agreed, taking in the way Cat looked, relaxed and happy. An evening with (almost) all of her favorite people had clearly lifted her mood. Sam stepped closer, identifying the inviting look on Cat’s face, heat thrumming through her body in anticipation as Cat’s hands circled her waist, pulling her closer.

They kissed, Cat pressed right up against the front door. Sam felt that effusive sensation of lightness, of pleasure coursing through her much more fervently, felt the way she stopped breathing as she felt Cat’s fingertips trailing up her side to skim over her breast.

She pulled back to meet Cat’s eye, and was reminded that they were still in costume. “Is it weird to kiss like this when we’re still dressed like Tori and Jade?” she asked, frowning.

Cat laughed, “Maybe a little,” she agreed, “Let’s at least take our wigs off.”

Sam let her take the Jade wig off of her, since Cat kind of knew what she was doing in that regard. But as Cat removed her own wig, Sam headed back to the bedroom to at least change out of the skirt. Sure, it was a look Jade wore well, but Sam was much more comfortable in pants. She pulled on her turtle print pajama pants, because at this time of night, why not?

When she came back out front, Cat was in the kitchen, covering up the chip dip to put it away. Sam opened her mouth to protest, but subsided. Instead, she chewed on a brownie and then began helping Cat put the baked goods into a container to keep them fresh.

Cat shot her a smile as she carried over the serving trays to the sink, where Cat began to wash them. Sam looked around the kitchen to see what else needed to be done, spotting their wigs perched on either side of the back of the couch like comical sentinels. But then she also noticed the trash, which was full from the napkins and paper cups and plates their friends had used over the course of the evening. Without waiting to be prompted, Sam went back toward the bathroom to empty the trash can into the kitchen garbage, then took the trash bag out.

Sam didn’t like work. She never had. But for some reason, right now, it was easy to look around, see what needed to be done, and to do it. She came back inside to find Cat still washing dishes, and she scooted over to give Sam access to the sink to wash her hands. She bumped her hip playfully against Cat’s as they stood next to each other at the sink. Cat giggled and bumped her right back, playfully flicking water from her damp hands onto Sam’s arms. Sam shot her an expression of mock outrage, which made Cat laugh. And then, while Cat finished with the dishes, Sam straightened up the living room, replacing pillows on the couch, picking up stray cups that had been left on surfaces, generally making sure everything was where it should be.

By the time Cat was finished with the dishes, Sam had the living room space put back together and cleared of any trash or plates or cups or, to Sam's horror, random half-eaten abandoned candy. She resisted eating it, though the temptation was strong, and tossed it along with the napkin she found tucked under the television. 

They were both tired from hosting the party (and, for Sam, from the weed she'd smoked) so, after checking the doors to make sure they were locked up, the move to the bedroom was the next natural step. Cat was quietly humming to herself as she prepared for bed, something she did pretty regularly, and everything seemed to be just about normal. Until Cat sighed and patted a space on her bed as Sam exited the bathroom after brushing her teeth.

"I need to talk to you," Cat said.

This seemed...formal. "Okay," Sam shuffled over to Cat's bed and sat down next to her. Had she fucked up while she was cleaning, somehow? "What's up?"

"Earlier, when we were talking about Mr. Drange and Clarice..."

Oh god, was it the creepy impression? "If it really freaks you out, I don't have to do the voice--"

"It's not that." Though, Cat paused. "Well, it's definitely creepy, but I kind of like it when you chase me around." But then Cat seemed to catch herself before veering too far off course. "It was the part where...I remembered things differently."

In Sam's mind, it wasn't a case of remembering differently, it was a case of Cat remembering something that absolutely hadn't happened. "You mean the part where you said she turned real?"

Cat nodded. "Because that's what I remember."

"But..." Sam took in a steady breath. "You know that's not possible, right?"

"I realize that now that I look back on it." Cat's gaze was somewhere in the middle of the room. They were right next to each other, but Sam felt like she was a million miles away. "Sometimes...I have mixed up memories."

Sam didn't really know what that meant. Not to the extent of thinking a doll had turned into a person, at least. "Is this...something you've talked about with Dr. Penny?"

"A little. And she said it's very possible the medication I was on for so long could have contributed to mild delusions."

That was a word Sam didn't like the second she heard Cat say it. "You're not delusional."

Cat shrugged. "It's okay. It's something I'm working on. But it's also...really embarrassing. Like, when you pointed it out in front of all our friends."

It was suddenly like Sam could feel her own skin, all of it, stretched out across her skeleton, over the muscles and around all the angles of her joints. "Oh." She'd made Cat feel bad and she sensed the heaviness of regret in her stomach. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"I know. That's why I'm telling you now." Finally, after the inches of space between them feeling like an entire universe, Cat leaned closer, pressing her shoulder to Sam's. "And I want you to let me know when I say stuff that's impossible. Just not around everyone else."

"Maybe we need a code," Sam suggested, allowing her stretchy skin sensation to give way to the warmth of Cat up against her.

Cat nodded. "We'd be like spies."

"I think you'd make a really excellent spy," Sam decided. "With all the costumes. And you're small and quiet but really scrappy, so you can climb through all the air ducts and stuff."

"You're more the kind to drop from the ceiling."

"I am. I've done it."

"As a spy?"

"No, I was playing Assassin with my friends in Seattle."

"Sounds dangerous."

"Not when you're the best."

They shifted on the bed, Cat slipping under the covers and tugging Sam's arm to invite her to do the same. "You don't have to stay all night, just a little while. It's Halloween, you have to protect me."

Sam was already committed to doing that on nights that weren't Halloween, but she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to cuddle with Cat. They talked a little more, Sam telling more of her story from back home, Cat describing a tuxedo with secret pockets she'd made in a costuming class in high school. Eventually, Sam dozed off with Cat tucked around her and, when she woke up three hours later for a snack, there was an actual tug-of-war between her stomach and her heart before she decided it was okay to get out of bed since Cat was sound asleep and wouldn't miss her.

-

That Saturday morning, Sam was late for their call. Usually, Sam was the one waiting for Carly to be awake and alert and with a cappuccino in hand before they started their call, but today, Carly had finished her cappuccino and had poured the other espresso shot her mako pot made into her tiny cup, topping it off with the warm milk still in her frother. Not as exciting or elegant as a cappuccino, more like a little latte, but still a handmade morning coffee Carly enjoyed. As she sat back down with her beverage, she heard the trill of the notification that Sam had come online, followed by the chiming tones of her incoming call.

Carly smiled as Sam’s face appeared on her screen. “There you are,” she greeted happily.

“Sorry,” Sam replied, straightening her hair with the help of her laptop camera, “I was...well, I got in bed with Cat. I didn’t mean to doze off.”

“Oooh,” Carly lilted playfully, “Well, that makes sense. I wasn’t worried you’d forgotten or anything.” Indeed, since they’d become separated on different continents and agreed to a regular chat schedule, Sam had been really conscientious about letting Carly know if she thought she wouldn’t be able to make a chat, well in advance, and Carly had done the same. It had only happened a few times in the scheme of things--last December they’d missed a couple of calls because of holiday things, like the fact that Carly’s dad was home. Sam had also canceled a couple other times--once because of working for Peezy B, another time because she was supposed to be in an MMA fight that she’d evidently forfeited. Carly knew that Sam wouldn’t miss a call unless there was a good reason, though she supposed she might have to decide someday in the future if falling asleep with one’s girlfriend was acceptable.

“Yeah, well. Thank Cat. She kicked me out of bed when I started moving around too much and that woke me up in time.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Carly smirked. “How’s everything going? Didn’t you guys have a Halloween party a couple nights ago?”

“Last night,” Sam confirmed, “Or, I guess technically two nights ago. You know what I mean. It was really cool. Cat and I wore our Jade and Tori costumes, but they almost outdid us by dressing up as Gomez and Morticia Addams.” Sam shook her head, “They’re ridiculous, but we all had fun. A couple of Cat’s other high school friends showed up, as well as Dice and Goomer.”

Carly had heard enough about the regular figures in Sam’s life to almost feel like she knew them herself--Dice, the entrepreneurial kid (though Sam had mentioned he’d grown about a foot out of nowhere recently, so maybe kid wasn’t the right word anymore); Goomer, the sweet but perhaps not the brightest MMA fighter who Sam always imitated with something like a Southern drawl; Tori, the girl who’d been on their webshow due to her unfortunate decision to date Steven Carson but who was apparently gay now; Jade, Tori’s girlfriend and the closest friend Sam had made other than Cat. Carly remembered the call soon after Sam had met Jade, and though there had been a _lot_ to tell Carly about, including how Cat had stopped her from doing a dangerous motorcycle stunt (which had definitely endeared Cat to Carly) and how Freddie had shown up, Sam had also spent a fair amount of time enumerating how cool her new friend Jade was and telling Carly about how Jade’s girlfriend was both the girl from the party at Kenan Thompson’s house and the one who dumped ravioli in the astronaut’s pants in her favorite SplashFace video. Carly marveled at how small a city like LA sometimes seemed to be, at least from Sam’s stories.

It seemed there was more to say about the Halloween party, though, because Carly could read the hesitation on Sam’s face. So she waited a moment, and as she suspected, Sam continued. “I also smoked some pot, with Jade, Tori and Cat’s high school friend Andre.”

“Oh, yeah?” Carly asked, interested. It was certainly something that was _around_ in Florence, based on things she’d heard, but not something she’d had a chance to try. “What was that like?” 

“It was...really interesting, actually,” Sam replied thoughtfully. “Like, okay. I wanted to try it for the experience, but I also was curious if things people say about its medical usefulness were true. You remember what I was like on Adderall, right?”

Carly nodded, “Of course.” She’d been given Sam’s meds to keep them away from her mom, and because there was a limited supply, had dispensed them rarely, when Sam decided she really needed to get things done. “You were like a whole different person on those.” Okay, she’d still occasionally have to prod Sam to focus on whatever assignment she needed to work on, or she’d get lost in focusing on something else entirely, which was pretty typical for her interactions with Sam, anyway. But on the drug, she was far less chaotic and more productive, and when she got into a groove, she was calmer and quieter.

Sam nodded, “Yeah, I really don’t get _why_ my mom wanted to take them for fun. Like, they were useful sometimes, and I can understand why they work for some people who need it, but I didn’t really like the way they made me feel. Like the nervousness and headaches. But especially the part where I wasn’t hungry.”

“Hence a whole different person,” Carly smiled. She’d never forget the time Sam absently told her _I’m not really hungry_ and continued working on her history paper while on Adderall. It had been unsettling, to say the least.

“Haha,” Sam drawled, smirking back at Carly. “Anyway, when I’m not trying to do school, the stuff I need to be able to focus on isn’t so serious that it feels like I need tunnel vision, which is sorta what Adderall feels like. Coffee can kind of help? Like it makes it easier to focus and prioritize without everything being so intense. But whatever I smoked the other night was different. Like, food tasted better and things were funnier and I just felt kinda happy, but the cool part was, when I was helping Cat clean up after everyone left, I could get things done without Cat having to guide me. Like, I looked at the room, and instead of being overwhelmed and not knowing where to start, I could sort of calmly take stock of things and go from there. I don’t know. I’m interested to try it again.”

“That’s interesting,” Carly offered, not really having anything personal to add. Coffee helped her wake up, or stay up late, but then, Carly hadn’t been diagnosed with ADHD. “Well, it sounds like California is the place to try marijuana.”

Sam snorted. “California: the place to try marijuana,” she intoned like a sales pitch, gesturing broadly with her hand. It was dumb, but it made Carly laugh. But then Sam nodded at her, “So what about you, what’s new? How’s _Amandine_?” she asked coyly.

Carly was unable to hide her grin. “She’s good,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual. The last time she’d talked to Sam, she and Amandine had kissed, but things had heated up a little since then. “We’ve been...you know. Fooling around,” Carly gestured vaguely with both hands.

“Do you mean fooling around like…” Sam crooked two fingers, palm up, “Or like…” she mimed grabbing breasts with both hands.

“Oh my god,” Carly could see herself blushing on her camera feed. “Just, like, second base kind of stuff! Over the clothes. It’s a little early for anything else.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sam laughed.

Carly’s eyes widened, “Why, what have _you_ been doing?”

Sam balked, “I...didn’t mean Cat. We’re doing the same thing you are, really. Second base stuff, over the clothes.” Her mouth upturned into a gentle smile, “It’s been _really_ nice.”

“I know the feeling,” Carly replied softly, letting herself drift back to her date the previous night, where she and Amandine had gone to a bar and ordered wine (well, Carly had ordered a Bellini; she was still getting used to wine), talked and flirted in a corner booth, and then they’d left the bar and slipped down a narrow walkway of an alley to kiss in the relative privacy the shadows offered. 

The autumn nights were chilly in Florence, so they both wore jackets, but hands were certainly wandering beneath them. Carly remembered, with a sort of breathtaking swell of excitement, the way it felt to touch Amandine, to feel her hand curve over her breast, feel the way it made Amandine kiss her harder, murmur something unknown in French in Carly’s ear. It was intoxicating, only matched by the fire ignited by Amandine’s touches over Carly’s clothes. 

Carly had deeply wanted more, but they were purposely avoiding each others’ apartments so far; Amandine had been _very_ clear that if they were alone together someplace private, that she didn’t think she’d be able to control herself. Carly almost wanted to just _let_ her seduce her, because she had no doubt that’s what would happen, but she also knew she was nervous and inexperienced, and, as corny as it was, she was enjoying the journey with Amandine so far.

Sam seemed lost in her own moment of reminiscence. “It’s all pretty new for Cat, but I love how into it she is,” she revealed. “And like, honestly, it feels pretty new to me, even though it’s not, because I actually have feelings for her. It kinda makes everything feel so much more amazing.”

Carly nodded. “It’s kind of cool that we’re both exploring this together,” she observed, “I mean, in the way that we’re both doing similar things with our first girlfriends at around the same time. Even though you’ve had sex with women and I’ve had sex with men, the fact that this is still kind of new for both of us is pretty exciting.”

“Huh, yeah, I guess we are,” Sam chuckled, but then her face changed, and Carly realized immediately what she’d picked up on. “Wait, what was that about sex with men?”

“Well,” Carly began, “You know about...the handjob.”

Sam’s nose wrinkled slightly, but she controlled it. “Yeah, but you’ve never called that sex before, even though...it pretty much is, huh.”

“I think so,” Carly nodded, “But also...Matteo and I did a little more than just that.”

Sam stared, “You never told me any of this,” she said bluntly.

“Yeah, it kind of got lost in the shuffle.”

“Wait, sorry, you had _sex_ and it got lost in the shuffle?” Sam sounded skeptical.

“I didn’t keep it from you intentionally.” Sam looked away guiltily at that, though Carly hadn’t been trying to draw a comparison, so she explained. “It just...it happened last December, during those couple weeks we didn’t chat because everything was really busy. And then we had so much else to talk about when we finally got to chat again that there wasn’t even a chance to bring it up. And then January things were getting weird between Matteo and I, so I talked to you about that instead, and he and I broke up in early February, and by then I didn’t really want to talk about it.”

Sam nodded her acceptance of the explanation, but she was still frowning. “I mean, you can talk about it now, if you want. Like. I don’t know that I need a lot of detail about how your _uncut_ Italian boyfriend railed you, but--”

“Oh my god, it wasn’t like that,” Carly interrupted, dismayed but also laughing (and also blushing about the detail Sam repeated back to her that she regretted sharing when she told Sam about the handjob). “He was very sweet, it was...very tender and loving. We only did it a few times before we broke up, but he did try to make sure I was enjoying it.”

“Well, I’d hope so,” Sam commented. “But like, also, good on you, Carls. I’m proud of you, kid.”

“Thanks,” Carly laughed, “I don’t regret anything. I’m kinda glad it didn’t work out because we actually didn’t have much in common. He was cute, though. But I’m _really_ happy to be dating Amandine right now instead.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Sam smiled, “You get all dreamy-eyed when she comes up. You were like...giddy sometimes about Matteo, but it’s getting a little deeper with Amandine, huh?”

It was an astute observation, but really, “It’s too early to tell. I _really_ like her. And she’s much more interesting to talk to. And she’s...sexier?” Sam snorted at this, in a way that clearly communicated _well obviously_. “But I don’t know how much of this is feelings and how much of this is lust just yet.”

“That’s fair,” Sam tipped her head from side to side in consideration.

“How’s Cat?” Carly realized she hadn’t asked yet. Sam had talked about her a little already, of course, but there was room for more inquiry.

“She’s good, the Halloween party was really good for her. She and I had to have a talk about like...her memories, though.”

“In what way?” Carly asked.

“In the way that like...apparently, the old medication she was on might’ve contributed to some mild delusions? So some of the stories she tells that don’t make a lot of sense, that might be why. So we had to agree on how to deal with that because I corrected her on something in front of everyone and it hurt her feelings.”

Carly had heard some of Cat’s stories over time. “You’re talking about stuff like the time she was imprisoned in a foreign country and things like that, yeah?”

“Yeah, that one still throws me a little,” Sam frowned, “Because there’s so much detail to that story that it doesn’t seem like it could be a delusion but it’s also just _wild_. But I don’t know how to confirm it. Cat is friends with the leader of that country on SplashFace, but then, why would he friend a prisoner who escaped?”

“Definitely odd,” Carly agreed.

“And even before this agreement with Cat not to question things like this, it wouldn’t be something I’d ever ask her friends about directly. It’s pretty rude to ask about somebody’s prison record. So I guess I’ll just listen and see if it ever comes up naturally. Even though it doesn’t sound like a joyful jaunt down memory lane.”

Leave it to Sam to be sensitive about the stigma of being incarcerated. “Yeah, I think it’s best to not go asking people about their time on the inside without prompting. Even if, from what you told me, it sounds like they were jailed for pretty ridiculous reasons.”

Sam smiled and nodded. “It’s good, I think, that Cat is interested in working on this stuff though. Like, I love the way her mind works, she’s so creative and innovative and unique. And I’ve always heard her say that she’s weird and that she knows her mind doesn’t work like everyone else’s but I think it’s also probably healthy that she’s willing to look back at some of her memories and try to establish what’s real and what’s not. Especially since she knows now that she might’ve been experiencing delusions.”

Normally, talk about things like delusions or false memories might put Carly on edge or make her worry about Sam, but this was Cat, and Carly had only ever seen her make Sam happy. “I’m really glad she has you to support her in all this.”

Sam laughed, “I’m the one who should be grateful for her. She’s the one who keeps me fed.” But her smile turned softer, “I just want her to be happy. So if I can make her feel safe and appreciated while she stays busy making doll clothes and getting ready for college next semester, then I’m good.”

“I heard she was launching an online store,” Carly supplied.

Sam narrowed her eyes, “Ah, so you talked to Freddie recently?”

“Sure,” Carly nodded. She didn’t keep in contact with him quite as regularly as she did with Sam or even Spencer, but they caught up about once a month or so. But then something else occurred to her. “Wait. Does he know?”

“Does he know what?”

“About you and Cat.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Sam confirmed.

“Was that...weird?” Carly ventured.

To her surprise, Sam laughed, “No, not really. I guess he kind of sensed something was going on that time Cat called him to come down to LA. Besides, we’ve been over each other for a _long_ time.”

“You sure about that?” Carly asked skeptically. She knew the two of them had broken up mutually and surprisingly amicably, but that didn’t mean feelings had evaporated.

“Well, I’m positive on my end of things,” Sam explained slowly, “And I figured he was back to crushing on you.”

“Oh, please,” Carly scoffed, “I don’t think that’s been the case for a long time.” Even when she’d kissed Freddie goodbye, she didn’t think it had meant anything _deep_ or _real_ between them. It was just that: a goodbye. The same way she’d said goodbye to Sam by refusing to let go of her in the elevator for several long minutes.

“Eh, I dunno. You’re pretty crushworthy,” Sam teased, “Just ask Amandine and Matteo.”

Carly rolled her eyes, “Uh huh. I’m gonna be asking Amandine something else, I think. Like whether I can get under her shirt next time.”

Sam’s eyes flashed with intrigue, “I’m all for that.”

“Well, you keep enjoying your first girlfriend, and I’ll enjoy mine,” Carly grinned. “Maybe we’ll keep making discoveries together, but separately.”

“It is kinda funny,” Sam admitted, “That we’re doing some of this at the same pace.”

It was, and as they hung up, the notion lingered in Carly’s mind.

Sam had been her best friend for such a long time--over half of her life, at this point. So many things they’d experienced together--first concerts, first crushes, even first periods, but the one thing that had always been private had been things like kisses and sexual exploration, from both sides (though Carly had been a little more open than Sam about some of it). Though it felt true that Carly hadn’t purposely avoided telling Sam about having sex with Matteo, she’d also been a little relieved when it hadn’t come up in conversation. Oddly, it wasn’t something she _wanted_ to tell her best friend, maybe because, at the time, she thought Sam hadn’t had any sexual experiences at all.

So the fact that they were exploring something very similar at the same time was important to Carly, even though it seemed weird, and didn’t really make a lot of sense. It felt like the first time they were on the same page sexually, and Carly liked that symmetry, the mirrored experiences, her and Sam discovering something special together. But separately.

The notion lingered in her mind as she went about her day, her brain obsessing mildly about the lingering connection she felt to Sam. It got to the point that she began to consider its significance, and in her considerations, she began to wonder what it might have been like if she and Sam were the ones exploring this, together. What it might have been like if it had been _her_ Sam had been kissing and touching in dark closets at school, and not Wendy.

Carly shook it out of her mind. It was some sort of best friend transference. Being happy for Sam didn’t mean she _wanted_ Sam in that way.

But it was hard to get the idea to dislodge completely, at least not until that evening, when she went to see a movie with Amandine, and they barely watched it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Put It All On Me_ by Ed Sheeran (ft. Ella Mai). 
> 
> **Next time on Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay):**
> 
> Saturday brought with it an email from Gio, which was a new, exciting part of Cat’s weeks that she looked forward to. It was good to actually hear from him, in a format that was clearly easier for him to keep up with than the letters they used to send one another (though the emails lacked the doodles Gio always drew in the margins of papers, something that reminded Cat a little of Sam, actually, though Gio’s drawings tended more toward the macabre). 
> 
> Cat was able to send pictures to Gio, but for privacy reasons, he couldn’t send any back, so she would always try to send him a picture of the beach, or of Nona, or of a plate of pasta--things that might remind him of home. In the same email a few weeks ago in which she’d told him about her hospitalization, she’d also sent a selfie of herself and Sam, letting him know they were dating, so at least there was some good news to update him about in her life. He’d been nothing but happy for her.
> 
> This email had Gio thanking her for the pictures she’d sent him in her last email and, since he couldn’t send pictures back, describing in detail the painting he was working on during his free time. It was good to hear that he was getting back into art, as it was something he’d always been good at. Typically, his interest in art fell away when he was doing worse, and he’d explained vaguely in the past that it was because the images in his head became “too disturbing.” 
> 
> So it was a good sign.


	6. Fluctuation: This kitty cat lost her mind, Been looking for a star-sent sign that I'll be alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief clinical discussion of self-harm/suicide during a therapy session.

November started out pretty auspiciously for Cat, even though, as always, she was a little disappointed that Halloween was over. She reflected that, especially now, it had meant a lot more to her because she wasn’t in school, and dressing up as Tori had given her a chance to perform for the first time in a long while, and that had been fun. But she had Sam, and all the kisses and cuddles that came with that, including sometimes falling asleep together (Cat realized that, at least on Halloween night, Sam had actually fallen asleep with her and stayed comfortably wrapped around her for far longer, and wondered if it was a result of Sam smoking weed with their friends).

Saturday brought with it an email from Gio, which was a new, exciting part of Cat’s weeks that she looked forward to. It was good to actually hear from him, in a format that was clearly easier for him to keep up with than the letters they used to send one another (though the emails lacked the doodles Gio always drew in the margins of papers, something that reminded Cat a little of Sam, actually, though Gio’s drawings tended more toward the macabre). Cat was able to send pictures to Gio, but for privacy reasons, he couldn’t send any back, so she would always try to send him a picture of the beach, or of Nona, or of a plate of pasta--things that might remind him of home. In the same email a few weeks ago in which she’d told him about her hospitalization, she’d also sent a selfie of herself and Sam, letting him know they were dating, so at least there was some good news to update him about in her life. He’d been nothing but happy for her.

This email had Gio thanking her for the pictures she’d sent him in her last email and, since he couldn’t send pictures back, describing in detail the painting he was working on during his free time. It was good to hear that he was getting back into art, as it was something he’d always been good at. Typically, his interest in art fell away when he was doing worse, and he’d explained vaguely in the past that it was because the images in his head became “too disturbing.” So it was a good sign. He also expressed that if he maintained good behavior, he would likely be allowed out of the facility to spend Thanksgiving at their parents’ house, which he was excited for, because, he explained, “Last year’s Thanksgiving food in here was gross.”

It made Cat consider her own Thanksgiving. Last year had been the first year she’d spent the holiday without her parents (though, not the first year without Gio, as he’d managed to get himself hospitalized during the holidays before). She’d spent it with Nona and Sam, though Sam had been really weird about everything, probably in part because she and Nona didn’t get along (something Cat was happy to realize had changed after she’d been hospitalized). Or maybe she felt weird being brought into someone else’s family for the holiday. She’d been similar about Christmas, clearly only hanging out for the food and avoiding any other celebratory aspects of the holiday (though she did get Cat a present, and was upset when Cat snooped). She and Sam had only known each other for a few months at that point, and though they were already very close friends (and Cat already knew she loved Sam), maybe it was a little too much to expect Sam to feel welcome in Cat’s family.

Cat hoped that this year, with their relationship status, that Sam would feel more comfortable celebrating holidays with her.

Monday brought a babysitting gig, a new girl named Hannah who was about seven and who at first just seemed quiet and shy. Sam was usually pretty good at bringing kids like that out of their shell, but as Sam tried to encourage her to play a game or even tell her about something she liked, the kid remained tight-lipped. Sam shrugged and eyed Cat before wandering over to the dining nook where she sat back down at her computer, clearly signaling for Cat to take the lead with this particular child.

Cat sat down with Hannah on the couch. “Want to know a secret?” she asked her.

Hannah eyed her uncertainly but shrugged, “Sure. What?”

It was still just monosyllabic responses, but Cat pressed on. “I used to be shy as a kid, too,” she confessed. It was true, but it had also taken Cat awhile to realize that’s what was happening, because she often had the opposite reaction as Hannah--she talked way too much in situations where she was nervous about meeting new people instead of clamming up.

Hannah frowned, “You think I’m shy?” she asked.

“It’s okay if you are,” Cat assured her, “We’re new people. Total strangers. I know it’s a little weird to be in our apartment.”

The girl shook her head, “I’m not that shy,” she muttered, “Today I’m just sad,” she explained to Cat matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Cat replied, “Oh, no. It’s no fun to be sad. Do you want to talk about why you’re sad?”

Hannah heaved a sigh and stared at her shoes for a moment before she finally said, “I’m scared my grandma is going to die.”

Cat looked over her head to see if Sam heard. From the way she met Cat’s eye, her eyebrows lifted, Cat figured she had, but she didn’t say anything. She turned her attention back to Hannah. She could relate; it was part of what was so upsetting to her when Nona moved to Elderly Acres, the confirmation that she was getting old, and therefore nearing the end of her life. “I’m so sorry. Is your grandma sick?” Cat asked.

Hannah shook her head, “No, but my best friend Emily just told me that her grandma had to go to the hospital, and she and I do everything together, so that made me scared that my grandma is going to get sick, too.” She closed her eyes. “And Emily’s grandma is a really nice lady and I don’t want her to die, either.”

Cat did not feel at all equipped to talk a child through their fear of death, but she at least knew what always helped her when she was young and scared. “Do you have a stuffed animal at home?” she asked Hannah.

“Yeah,” Hannah answered, “My bear, Gribble.”

“Well,” Cat offered, “I have bears. And other animals. What’s your favorite animal?”

“Bunnies,” Hannah replied.

“I have those, too,” Cat nodded, “Why don’t you come to my room and pick out a friend to hang out with? I always feel less sad when I have someone to hug.” She glanced at Sam as she said it, who wore a soft smile, and guided Hannah back to their room.

Hannah walked into the room, her eyes wide, “Whoa,” she said, some of her sadness seemingly forgotten as she took in her surroundings, “This is your room?”

“Yup!” Cat nodded, “This is my side, and that’s Sam’s side.”

“Wow,” Hannah stared between the two halves of the bedroom, “You two are really different, huh?”

“Yeah,” Cat laughed, “But that’s part of what makes us great together. Now, I’d like you to meet my stuffed animals,” Cat gestured toward her bed.

“Wow, you have a lot,” Hannah spoke, eyes running over them.

“There are more up there on that shelf, too,” Cat pointed out, and Hannah looked up to take them in, clearly fascinated. Cat picked up Mr. Purple and tucked him under her arm, “Mr. Purple has always been there for me.”

“Who’s that?” Hannah asked, pointing to an animal.

“That’s Flopsy Bunny,” Cat informed her, “Do you want to hold her?”

Hannah nodded, and picked up the little stuffed rabbit. She was one of the stuffed animals that already wore clothes, even before Cat started making them, but Cat had removed her dress and made some of her own modifications to it to make it more unique. Hannah held Flopsy Bunny to her chest and nodded once more in satisfaction, and the two of them made their way back to the living room.

Sam joined them on the couch not long after as they chose something to watch, complimenting Hannah on her choice to befriend Flopsy Bunny. Even a little later, when they turned off the TV to have a snack, Hannah didn’t seem to want to let go of the stuffed animal. Cat was happy that the comfort of the rabbit was helping Hannah feel better. She certainly seemed to be less scared and sad, and was beginning to brighten up a little as she spent more time with Cat, Sam and Flopsy Bunny.

“Well, Hannah,” Cat finally said, “Your mom should be here in a half an hour or so.”

Hannah’s hold on Flopsy Bunny tightened, “Yeah, okay,” she said. There was a moment of silence, and then she said dejectedly, “I guess I have to say goodbye to Flopsy Bunny.”

Cat wasn’t quite expecting the moment to break her heart. It was a borrowed stuffed animal, it was _her_ stuffed animal, and though Hannah had found comfort in it, she also hadn’t expected Hannah to attach to it so quickly. She looked to Sam, who shrugged, eyes wide, clearly not knowing how to pry a stuffed animal out of the arms of a sad kid.

“Hey,” Sam said quietly to Hannah, “Cat and I need to have a quick chat, okay?”

Hannah nodded, and Sam took Cat’s hand and led her to the bedroom. Cat stood in front of her bed and stared at her animals. “She really loves her,” she stated unnecessarily.

“Yeah, kinda picked up on that,” Sam replied, standing next to Cat, but facing her. Cat could feel Sam’s eyes on her face, scrutinizing her. “What do you want to do?”

Cat let her eyes scan over the plush faces of her stuffed animals, beings who her imagination had imbued with personality, who she had given names, who had always been there for her, so she never felt lonely. They had been a comfort when she felt ill-equipped for the world, a tether between herself and Sam when she was in Arizona. They were important to her, they were a part of her.

But it didn’t escape her attention that she had been considering lately that they maybe felt a little less significant, now that she had Sam.

“I wanted to have Hannah give her back,” Cat said slowly. Which was true, there’d been a flash of uncertain panic, the sense that Flopsy Bunny was _hers_. “But now I’m thinking I might want her to keep Flopsy Bunny.”

She could see Sam nodding slowly, “Yeah?” she asked, “You’re sure?”

Cat nodded, turning to face her girlfriend. “Yeah,” she replied. “I love my animals,” she said simply, “But I’m also...feeling like things are a little different, now that I’m eighteen, I’m going to college soon, I have a girlfriend...I have less time for them.” She shrugged, “And if Hannah loves her, maybe it would be better for both of them to be together. I can still love her, too, and the memories we shared.” She looked at Sam, “Love doesn’t have a limit. And this way, there’s more of it in the world.”

Sam began smiling as Cat talked it through, until she was wearing that big grin that made her whole face look soft and adoring. “Yeah?” she asked again. “That makes a lot of sense to me.”

Cat sighed, reaching for her, letting Sam envelope her in her arms. She pressed her face against Sam’s shoulder, cheek against the soft material of her hoodie. “Even knowing it’s the right thing to do, it still hurts.”

“Goodbyes always hurt,” Sam said into her hair. “Even when they’re not forever.”

They came back out to the living room, where they found Hannah sitting with Flopsy Bunny in her lap, looking like they were having a conversation. She saw them approaching and stood up, still holding Flopsy Bunny.

“Hannah,” Cat began, “Would you like to take Flopsy Bunny home with you?”

Hannah looked between them with wide eyes, “Can I?”

Cat nodded, “I would be willing to let you adopt her,” she began, “You just have to promise you will love her and take care of her.”

Hannah nodded eagerly, “I do love her, and I will.”

Cat looked over at Sam, really just checking in that she was doing the right thing, and Sam said, “I have an idea. Since Hannah is adopting Flopsy Bunny, why don’t we make it official?”

“Official how?” Cat asked.

“Well, when adoptions happen, there’s paperwork,” Sam explained, “So let me just...get a picture of Hannah and Flopsy Bunny. Smile, Hannah.” Sam took a picture on her PearPhone and then headed over to her computer. “Cat, can you bring me a piece of printer paper and a black pen?”

By the time Hannah’s mom showed up, Sam had created a little certificate of adoption for Flopsy Bunny, including her full name, her birthday, and the photograph of Hannah holding her. She had Hannah and Cat both sign it, and she’d drawn a small _very_ official-looking seal that said _Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Fun Time Adoption Service_. The fonts and layouts of the little document looked to Cat like it could very well be something real.

“You’re really good at this,” Cat remarked, examining the copy of the certificate she’d kept as she slid it into a sheet protector, intending to put it in her Sam Book.

Sam shrugged, “I have an uncle in prison for forgery,” she offered as an explanation.

“I see,” Cat replied, flipping open the binder to the drawing Sam had sent her of Flopsy Bunny dancing under a disco ball with Mr. Porkstache. She gazed at it wistfully for a long moment, at the image Sam had lovingly sketched, creating the shape of an old friend Cat had missed while she was in the hospital. But even then, Cat was well aware that the friend she missed the most had been Sam, who wrote her daily letters, sent her sister to deliver a hug, video called her every day.

She loved Sam, and Sam loved her, and Flopsy Bunny carried some of that love, and it would be amplified by Hannah.

She felt Sam’s arm wrap around her waist, and knew that Sam understood.

-

That Wednesday, after dropping Cat off at her appointment with Dr. Penny, Sam and Jade headed to the Egg and Spoon Diner. They’d gone to Donut Street the last couple of Wednesdays, but today, they were both craving burgers, so diner food it was.

“So, how’d you like the weed Tori brought?” Jade asked casually as she stirred a couple of sugar packets into her black coffee.

“I liked it a lot,” Sam replied, sipping her own, unmodified. “Not that I really have much to compare it to.”

Jade nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess I’m starting to get a sense of what I like. That one was kind of heady. Put me in a good, creative headspace.”

“I was talking to Carly about it a little,” Sam elaborated, “It’s definitely something I want to explore more.”

“Well, I can show you where Tori and I got our medical cards,” Jade offered, “It’s not that far from your apartment.”

“Hmm,” Sam grunted, “I’m guessing I’d have to get a _real_ California driver’s license for that.”

Jade’s eyebrows rose, “You...don’t have one?”

“Not a real one.” Her Washington driver’s license (which she’d only gotten at Carly’s prompting and promise to help her prepare) was still valid if she needed actual identification. Not that she was licensed for a motorcycle, the absence of which had led to a couple of unpaid tickets in different states, and that meant she couldn’t return. That was something she kept meaning to handle, but it involved work and studying, so meanwhile, she’d been getting around Los Angeles just fine.

“Yeah, you might need that,” Jade replied. “Until then, we can probably try some things together sometimes.”

“So what did you do with that creative headspace?” Sam wondered about Jade’s process for things. She’d heard about a couple of her short films and plays, both from Jade herself and from Cat, who often acted in her work.

Jade shrugged, “It was mostly brainstorming. That haunted doll story helped, to be honest.” Sam smiled weakly, still remembering the jarring discomfort of realizing Cat had created a mild delusion out of the event. Though, at least it was a delusion that probably gave her some resolution about the whole incident. “By the time Robbie dropped me off at the dorms, I was coming down a little, but I was also bracing myself to deal with Vanessa. Which...that was interesting,” she smirked.

“How so?”

“She’s gone,” Jade’s smirk deepened, “I guess me dressing up as Morticia was the last straw.”

“Damn,” Sam laughed, “You must’ve really freaked her out if that costume was the last straw.”

“I may have implied I was going to a seance,” Jade informed Sam faux casually.

“That would do it.”

The burgers arrived, the waitress topped up their coffees, and after ensuring they were okay, bustled away. The conversation paused as they each took a bite of their food, but moments later, Jade continued her story, “So I came back to the dorm to find her side of the room empty. Completely stripped clean. Just a piece of paper with a Bible verse on it left on her bed.”

“What did the verse say?” Sam asked, fascinated.

Jade shrugged, “Maybe she transposed the numbers or something because it didn’t make any sense to me. Something about shuddering demons.”

“Huh. Religion is weird.”

“Tell me about it. What sucked is that Tori was already on her way home and had homework, so I couldn’t have Robbie turn around to drop her off. So I changed out of my dress and just laid around without a bra on. It was kind of the best feeling, still being kinda high, just chilling with my tits out.” She eyed Sam’s chest for a moment, “You know what I mean, right?”

Sam nodded, “Sure do. Not that I’ve really had a chance to do that lately, since I’ve been living with Cat for so long, but I do know the pleasure of taking off your bra after a long day.”

Jade groaned, “Yes, that’s the best fucking thing.” She shook her head. “Tori doesn’t really get what it’s like, how like, once the bra is off, it’s staying off unless I really don’t have a choice. Because she can get away with not wearing a bra if she needs to, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t side eye me or pout when I make her go answer the door when we order Chinese food.”

“Mmmph,” Sam groaned around her bite of burger, “Now I want Chinese food.”

“You’re literally eating a burger right now,” Jade laughed.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want Chinese food.”

“You’re nuts.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s scared off two roommates.” Sam paused, “Though, I’ve never tried.”

“I wasn’t trying, either,” Jade claimed. Sam shot her a disbelieving look, and she tipped her head to the side as she ate a fry. “Okay, maybe I was pushing Vanessa a little. But my first roommate and I barely spoke.”

“Maybe you’ll get to enjoy a single room for awhile.”

Jade shook her head, “Nah, I’ve got another girl moving in by the end of the week. Guess we’ll find out which new way I get to hate someone now.”

Sam shook her head, “I don’t know how Cat and I figured out being roommates so fast, but I’m grateful as hell it worked out. Even Carly nearly killed me when I stayed at her house too long.” Granted, Sam had grown up quite a bit since then. Maybe it also had something to do with redecorating the apartment she shared with Cat. She felt a connection to the place, a responsibility to take care of it. Even though she’d spent as much time at Carly’s as humanly possible, it had never felt like her _home_. It was a place she was welcome (usually) and a place she felt safe, but home, unfortunately, was her mother’s messy house with the ugly wallpaper.

“I’m just not used to having someone else in my business so much,” Jade scowled. “My brother learned young to stay out of my room.” She took a contemplative bite of her burger. “I’m also probably just an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “It’s exactly why we’re friends.”

-

Cat always looked forward to talking with Dr. Penny because she liked her and she trusted her and she always left a session feeling better than when she came in. Which was saying something, considering that she spent a good twenty minutes before every session hanging onto Sam on the back of the motorcycle, wind whipping past her, exhilarated by the speed and the turns and the feeling of Sam’s waist under her hands, the press of leather against her as she squeezed closer to Sam.

But Dr. Penny left her feeling a different sort of better. Not the elated _goodness_ of Sam, whose very presence made Cat feel the excitement of possibility, the free-floating eagerness of love passing between them. No, Dr. Penny made Cat feel _calmer_. A different sort of safe than the safety of Sam, who was like a shield, protecting her from the world. Dr. Penny made Cat feel safer from herself. Like maybe there was hope for her (sometimes delightfully, sometimes disappointingly) weird brain after all.

Though they always ended up talking about something helpful, Cat didn’t always know where to start. Dr. Penny usually prompted her to steer the conversation in whatever direction Cat wanted, but today, as Cat came into the office and took her usual seat on the couch, straightening her clothes habitually as she settled in, her thoughts were a jumble.

“How was your week, Cat?” Dr. Penny asked amiably.

Cat didn’t answer right away, because her mind was churning, stuck on the impossible task of prioritizing what she needed to talk about most this week. Thoughts of Gio, and being happy for him, but also missing him. The prospect of another Thanksgiving with Sam and Nona and how it sounded really great but also made her a little sad because it was different, it wasn’t the comfort of what she and her family had always done. The lingering embarrassment and fear surrounding her recent revelation about her Halloween delusion. And thoughts of Sam, how she sometimes thought she would burst with how much love she felt for her, how they’d barely passed second base but she kept thinking about going further, was beginning to think about _sex_ , but it was all so new and overwhelming.

The silence stretched for a long moment as Cat felt paralyzed by everything she was considering, and Dr. Penny gently spoke, “Cat, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Cat burst, inhaling a deep breath after her outburst, “I just...give me a moment.”

“Sure, take your time,” Dr. Penny replied, completely unperturbed.

“I’m sorry,” Cat said a moment later, “I just don’t really know where to start this week.”

Dr. Penny’s smile was patient, reassuring. “I can offer some suggestions, if you want.”

“Okay,” Cat agreed.

“How is Sam?” Dr. Penny asked.

Cat smiled. It felt like Dr. Penny was giving her an easy place to start, a reason to smile, and it worked. “Sam is really great,” she replied, her standard answer. “We...didn’t have a fight? But she hurt my feelings and we talked about it afterwards.”

“Were you able to resolve everything when you talked?”

“I think so,” Cat replied. “What happened was...I guess I had a memory of something that happened last Halloween that was a delusion. That if I would have thought about it for longer than a moment I would have realized it couldn’t happen, but it’s also _so clear_ in my memories.” Cat could see that Dr. Penny probably wanted her to elaborate, and sighed. Just the idea of admitting to it again was difficult, because it was embarrassing. “Sam and I babysat a very weird man’s doll last Halloween and I thought the doll became a real girl at the end of the night. But our friend Dice had been pranking us all night and moving the doll around so that even Sam was freaked out and _nothing_ ever freaks Sam out, so maybe I dreamed it and decided it was real, because at least it was an explanation.”

Dr. Penny nodded, “You do have a very vivid imagination,” she supplied, “But take comfort in the fact that the mark of a true delusion is that even with evidence to the contrary, the person continues to believe that it’s true. The fact that you’re able to look back and realize what you remember can’t be true is a good sign.”

That much did make Cat feel a little better. She just wished she could erase or overwrite the false memory that _still_ lingered with the real one, but at least she could look at it and know that it wasn’t real.

“Our memories actually aren’t very good,” Dr. Penny smiled, “Because each time we recall something we then have to re-store it in our long-term memory. It’s a bit like picking up a photo album with dirty fingers over and over again, so the images smudge over time, becoming less distinct and less accurate, and sometimes changing with the context into which we recall them. It’s also remarkably easy to implant false memories in people through the power of suggestion, even if such people aren’t prone to delusions.” She regarded Cat warmly, “I say all of this to you to encourage you to give yourself a break. The medication you were on for so many years didn’t really do you any favors. If you had a delusional belief at one point, it’s possible that you’ll recall it later on, and it won’t be accurate. Do you want to talk through how you might deal with other memories that don’t quite feel accurate, once you think about them?”

“Well,” Cat said, “I did kind of talk to Sam about it, because what hurt my feelings was that I brought up the doll turning into a girl and Sam told me it hadn’t happened...in front of all our friends. So I asked her not to do that, and we talked about coming up with a code if something like that happens again. But we agreed that it’s something we can talk about in private later.”

“That’s good,” Dr. Penny encouraged, “I know it might be hard for Sam to not say anything in the moment, because sometimes what you recall might be things she finds upsetting.”

Cat hadn’t considered that, but she hoped it wasn’t going to be true. The one wish she had was that every memory she’d made with Sam would be, somehow, miraculously, accurate. The doll had already crushed that hope. She took comfort in the fact that at least she could be reasonably certain that, on new medication, every memory she and Sam were making since they kissed for the first time would be as true and real as memories could be. “Yeah, that’s true, but Sam felt really bad that she hurt me and I know she doesn’t want to do that. But I was also thinking about earlier stuff, high school stuff. Sam wasn’t there for a lot of that.” Cat took a breath. “I don’t know if I really want to ask my friends about some of it. At least, not yet, because I got so embarrassed. But I’m considering maybe asking Gio about some things I remember, and I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Cat worried her lip.

“It’s certainly an option,” Dr. Penny replied, “Gio’s memories will likely be different from yours, as any two people’s memories can be, but perhaps you could find some common ground together. And assuming he’s doing well in his treatment, he may be able to recognize his own past delusions, or at least understand that you would not think they were true.”

“I just know I probably can’t ask my parents some of this stuff,” Cat elaborated, “Because they might not tell me the truth. Gio would, though.” Dr. Penny nodded sympathetically, and Cat continued, “He said he might be able to spend Thanksgiving with our parents.”

“I’m sure he’ll like that. Are you traveling to see them?”

Cat shook her head. In truth, it hadn’t even occurred to her to go visit them, and they hadn’t asked. She used to really enjoy flying, but she had to admit it had lost some of its luster after she’d been unexpectedly stuck in Arizona for weeks. Right now, she just wanted to stay close to home. “No, I’m going to celebrate with Nona and Sam.” Dr. Penny smiled at this, and Cat elaborated, “We celebrated together last year, and it was good because the buffet at Elderly Acres meant Sam could have as much as she wanted, but it was also a little weird because Sam and Nona didn’t really get along back then. But they like each other more now.”

“Did Nona approve of you two dating, then?” Dr. Penny ventured a guess.

Cat opened her mouth to reply and then closed it. It had just occurred to her that she’d never told Nona they were dating. “I don’t think Nona knows,” Cat admitted.

“Oh, is that something you want to keep secret from her?”

“No,” Cat replied, “I just...guess I forgot to tell her. It felt like everyone around me knew, but...I mean, she’s not always the best listener, either,” Cat frowned. Well, add that to her mental task-list: telling Nona about her and Sam. She didn’t anticipate a bad reaction, though maybe Nona’s history with Sam wouldn’t show Cat’s girlfriend in the most favorable light.

As the session began to wrap up, Dr. Penny said, “I have a homework suggestion for you.”

Cat sat up straighter, “Oh! Okay.” She remembered Dr. Penny had mentioned the possibility in their first session, but she hadn’t offered any yet. She was curious what it would entail.

“I wonder if you might try keeping a journal of memories that seem odd to you, and when you are able to compare what you remember with another person, make note of differences.” She paused. “I know that the thought of not being able to trust your memories bothers you, and it’s very positive that you’re able to reframe previous beliefs and recognize what is inaccurate about them. And I suspect that, if you begin comparing your memories with others, that you’ll find they are mostly accurate.”

“But,” Cat frowned, “I’ve had delusions. I hallucinated a girl! I had a psychotic break!”

Dr. Penny merely smiled patiently. “And you’re recovering from all that. But in my conversations with you and observations of you, you don’t seem to be carrying a lot of lingering false beliefs that impact your daily life. Despite all you’ve been through, you’re pretty grounded.” Cat smiled at that; even if she didn’t fully believe that yet, it was nice to hear. “So I really do think that if you start examining this, you’ll find your memories only deviate from others in small ways. And if, in the process, you discover some more moments that don’t match up, then that’s something you have expressed you want to do, anyway, so it’s useful information to have.”

“Okay,” Cat agreed, “I can start journaling about this.”

If nothing else, a tangible list of what was wrong with her memories could only be good, right?

-

Though Sam was pretty sure she wasn’t about to forget her appointments with Lanelle, she did appreciate Cat putting them in the calendars, both the wall calendar by the desk across from the patio and their shared PearCal app. But already the habit was starting to form, even if this was only her second official appointment, because taking Cat to her appointments with Dr. Penny on Wednesdays was prompting Sam to consider when her own next appointment was. Maybe it was weird, that their weekly schedules were kind of built around therapy appointments, but Sam wasn’t complaining.

Today, Lanelle wore a black pantsuit with a collared shirt, and Sam hoped she’d be able to make it through the session without leering, because she wore it _very_ well. Sam settled into the squishy armchair she preferred, resisting the urge to sit in it sideways with her knees over an armrest or to curl her legs underneath her. What was the point of comfortable furniture you couldn’t sit comfortably in? She kept both boots on the floor in front of her.

“So, Sam, how have you been?” Lanelle asked.

Sam shrugged, “Good, I guess.” She was, in fact, in a pretty good mood, but was it a bad thing to come to therapy in a good mood? “Last couple weeks have been alright.”

“Glad to hear it. Did you do anything for Halloween?”

It almost felt conversational, like a regular catch-up, rather than what was probably Lanelle’s attempt to discern what Sam wanted to talk about this week. “Yeah, Cat and I threw a party, which was really cool.” She wondered if she should admit to her therapist that she’d tried weed. Probably not. But there was the moment she’d embarrassed Cat, and maybe she should talk about that. “So...you know my girlfriend Cat is working on a lot of her own stuff.”

Lanelle nodded, “Yes, you mentioned she had a psychotic break over the summer.”

Sam grimaced slightly. “Yeah, so, it turns out that something she’s working on is the fact that whatever meds she was on when I met her and even before that were like...messing with her memories. She used the word delusions.”

“It sounds like this upsets you,” Lanelle commented, “Why is that?”

“Because she’s not crazy,” Sam replied bluntly. “Like, she’s creative and she’s weird--she went to an artsy high school, so of course she is--but she’s not crazy.”

“Experiencing delusions as a result of medicinal side effects doesn’t make someone _crazy_ ,” Lanelle replied, emphasizing the last word in a way that told Sam she wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“No, sure, I know. But I think _she_ worries she is sometimes. And like...I hurt her feelings by accident. Because she talked about something that hadn’t happened and I corrected her in front of our friends, and that embarrassed her.”

“What was the aftermath of that incident?” Lanelle asked.

“We talked about it,” Sam replied, “And agreed that she wants to know when she says something wrong, but later, in private.” She glanced away from Lanelle. “I just wish I’d thought about that before I hurt her.”

Sam’s attention was drawn back to her therapist as Lanelle uncrossed her legs and sat forward a little bit. “Sam, the main reason you came to therapy was because you wanted to be a better partner to Cat, am I remembering correctly?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Okay,” Lanelle replied, “I guess I’m just looking for some clarity, because you’ve come to me twice about conflict in your relationship, but each time you’ve resolved it, and everything I hear from you tells me that you genuinely want Cat to be happy.” She let that sink in for a moment. “So, I guess I’m just confused about what makes you believe you’re potentially not a good partner to your girlfriend?”

Sam’s brow crinkled in confusion, “Because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing?” was her blunt reply, but Lanelle’s expression told her she wanted more details, so Sam continued. “I can’t think of a single healthy adult relationship that I’ve ever seen in my life. My two closest friends Carly and Freddie have single parents. I have no idea who my father is and my mom has been engaged like nineteen different times. And Carly, yeah, she had a single dad, but most of the time she was being raised by her older brother, who never really managed to date anyone long-term. Even Cat, her parents are still married, but they live in Idaho, and I’ve never met them. To top it off, the only person I ever really dated before Cat was Freddie, and it was a complete disaster.”

“Tell me more about your relationship with Freddie,” Lanelle encouraged. “What made it a disaster?”

“Okay,” Sam grunted, thinking about the best way to describe it. “Freddie was...he was Carly’s neighbor, and he was in love with her for a long time. And I really couldn’t stand him for a long time, either.”

She paused, trying to consider what to say next, but Lanelle asked, “Why did you dislike him?”

“He was nerdy, he was annoying, I hated the way he constantly hit on Carly.” But even as she started talking, she knew she was exaggerating in a way that was habitual. “I didn’t really dislike him,” she subsided, “Like, yes, he was nerdy and annoying. He still is. But he was also my friend, even if we expressed that by jabbing at each other.”

“So how did things change from his crush on your friend and the two of you having conflict to dating?”

“I still don’t really know,” Sam said thoughtfully. “So he’s this nerd, right, and he made this machine that could read someone’s mood by their facial expression, and the machine told him that my mood was ‘in love.’ So he and Carly assumed I was in love with this guy Brad who was helping Freddie with his project.” She sighed. “I wasn’t in love with Brad. I wasn’t in love with Freddie, either, but I _liked_ him. So I kissed him and checked myself into a mental hospital.”

Lanelle stared in surprise, “Why a mental hospital?”

“Just seemed like the easiest way to get some space,” Sam replied. “I regretted kissing Freddie pretty much instantly, but it was also the easiest way to get out of that situation. And I _did_ like him. I really did. And that made no sense either because all we did was fight.”

“Passion can be very exciting, whether it’s built on lust or conflict,” Lanelle replied.

“Yeah, I guess passion was the one thing we had going for us. But I was confused and a little scared that the machine said I was ‘in love,’ and I thought that if I didn’t even know my mind, then maybe I was crazy.” She didn’t mention her other fear, one that had been sort of half-formed at the time and that she became more aware of later, that the machine was going to expose her feelings for Carly.

Lanelle tapped her finger against her knee a few times thoughtfully. “Since this isn’t a technology I’ve ever heard of, I’m going to guess that the flaw wasn’t in your mind, but in the machine itself. I don’t believe it’s possible for a machine to read whether a person is ‘in love’ or not.”

“Oh,” Sam muttered, “I...didn’t even consider that.” She felt sort of gullible, but then, she’d seen Freddie create some pretty amazing things in the time she’d known him. It wasn’t that big of a stretch to believe he’d created a machine that could read her mood better than she could.

“Well, regardless of the technology’s accuracy, it pushed you and Freddie together, correct?”

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed. “I don’t have any idea why he liked me, but I guess he must’ve.”

“Why wouldn’t he like you? The two of you were friends.”

“It’s not like I was a great friend to him. Yeah, the way we picked on each other was mutual, we both knew we cared underneath it all. But like...Freddie was the complete opposite of me. He was good at school, he was wimpy, his interests were all painfully boring. He had a mom that cared about him, but, kind of actually _too_ much, like, I’d probably take my own disaster of a mother over Mrs. Benson.”

“So if he’s your opposite, that makes you...bad in school, aggressive, and with a mom that doesn’t care about you,” Lanelle ventured.

“Pretty much,” Sam agreed. Though, that wasn’t entirely fair to her mom. “I mean, my mom _cared_ , it just didn’t amount to much.”

Lanelle seemed to be waiting for Sam to say more about this, but what else was there to say? So finally she continued with, “What made your relationship with Freddie a disaster?”

“We were too different,” Sam said simply, “Passion, like you said, that’s all we had. I liked kissing him because it was physical, it was like the way I used to push him around but with our lips, so it felt nicer. Talking led to fighting. Trying to find things to do together outside of _iCarly_ led to fighting. About all we had in common was the web show and our friendship with Carly. We weren’t together long, and Carly’s interference was the only reason we lasted as long as we did.”

“Do you regret dating Freddie?”

Sam thought about it. “No, not really. It wasn’t a good relationship, but I think it helped our friendship. Like, we at least understood each other better from trying to date, and it cooled a lot of the friction in our friendship.”

“So what makes Cat different?” Lanelle asked.

Sam blinked, “What?”

“When you’ve talked about Cat, you’ve mentioned conflict and passion a few times. Conflicts you talked through and resolved together. And you’ve mentioned having strong feelings for each other. So what makes this a relationship that prompted you to come see me rather than a disaster? What makes Sam and Cat different from Sam and Freddie?”

“I...I mean, Cat’s a girl, for starters.” It wasn’t really a serious answer, but Sam was trying to buy herself some time as she considered the question.

“Sure,” Lanelle agreed, “Is that important in terms of your romantic or sexual orientation?”

The question surprised Sam a little, because she thought Lanelle would laugh off her non-answer. “I don’t really know. I’m still trying to work out what all that means for me.” Though this prompted her to think of the last time she saw Freddie. “Freddie came down for a surprise visit early this year. Really long story, not important right now. And he was always this scrawny boy, but that started to change around when we dated. When I saw him last, he was like... _buff_. And I didn’t like it. It wasn’t attractive to me.” She paused. “I mean, he and I only kissed, and other than him, I’ve only been with women. I guess that must mean something. But, I did really like him. I even thought I loved him. So I don’t really know what to call myself yet. I just know how I feel about Cat.”

“That’s totally valid. You don’t need to have all the answers yet,” Lanelle replied, “Sexuality is complex. Sometimes different labels fit different parts of our lives better. But what else about Cat is different?”

Sam had kind of forgotten about this question as she considered her sexuality. But she had a better answer anyway. “I guess Cat is kind of my opposite, too, but it works better? Like, she’s sweet, and cute, and she takes care of me, and I try to look out for her, too. It feels right. With Freddie I was always thinking about how opposites attract and I thought that should make things work with us. Like he was the kind of opposite that I should want, that would make me better. But we made each other worse. Cat feels like...the kind of opposite that makes me better. And that’s why I really, really want to get this right.”

“Some opposites fit together and some don’t,” Lanelle supplied. “A square peg and a round hole are opposites that don’t fit. But a round peg and a round hole are still opposite, and they do.” Sam digested that for a moment. She liked it. “But what I see from you, when you talk about Cat, is the two of you practicing healthy communication together, resolving conflicts. Conflicts are inevitable in relationships; what matters is how you handle them. And I hear you talk about the ways you support each other. You take Cat to her appointments and handle finances, she handles a lot of household and time management. And these are really good signs, Sam. So I think the issue here is less a problem at the core of your relationship and more a problem of your own confidence in your ability to continue to do what you are already doing.”

Sam let that sink in. Finally, she said, “Yeah, maybe.”

“So let’s talk about why that might be. You mentioned lacking role models.”

But Sam didn’t really want to talk about her mom. “Sure, seeing my mom with her flavor of the week all the time gave me a pretty good idea of what _not_ to do. Look, I know where I come from wasn’t great. But aren’t there like, things I can focus on to be good at this relationship thing that don’t have to do with my weird, crappy childhood?”

“Sure, if that’s what you like,” Lanelle replied, “If you want, we can talk about communication skills, and conflict resolution.”

Relieved, Sam tried to listen as Lanelle explained some of the positive and negative communication tactics. Sam liked practical plans. She liked results. Even though it was much less stimulating, she felt like this was probably the better tactic to take.

But she had to admit, it gnawed at her when she left Lanelle’s office that day that she’d steered the conversation away from something difficult. But mostly because it made her feel like a coward.

-

While Sam headed off to her appointment with her therapist, Cat rode her bike over to Elderly Acres. She saw Nona regularly, both with and without Sam, but today was a sort of drop-in visit. This was common enough when it came to her relationship with Nona, and Cat found it fun to see what kinds of things Nona and the other Elderlies were doing when she showed up.

Today, someone had set up a video game system on a large TV and the Elderlies were having a virtual bowling tournament. But either Nona wasn’t playing or she wasn’t that invested in her score, because she left with only a little reluctance when Cat arrived, though not after she invited Cat to join them all, which she declined.

But finally, Nona told the other Elderlies that she was going to spend some time with “My sweet granddaughter Cat,” and they moved away from the crowd. “And how is my Cat?” Nona asked as they walked away.

“Fine,” Cat replied cheerily, “I want to talk to you, though. Maybe we can go outside?”

“Of course!” Nona intoned with her usual agreeableness. “Where’s Sam?”

It was a question Nona asked more frequently, since Cat had come home from Arizona. Cat was torn about whether it was because Nona and Sam had grown closer while she was gone, or if it was Nona being overly concerned about Cat going places on her own. Either way, she took the question as a good sign. “She had an appointment today.”

“Oh, okay,” Nona replied as they stepped out into the Elderly Acres courtyard. It was a little garden with benches and walking paths situated between the residential building and the chapel on the property. Even in November, flowers were in full bloom in the beds--pansies, daffodils, cyclamen, marigolds, snapdragons. The fact that there was always something blooming in LA was something Cat loved about living here.

Cat guided Nona to sit on one of the benches. It was warm enough in the sun, but she knew neither of them would want to stay outside for long, so she thought she might want to get to the point. “Sam is kind of why I wanted to talk to you,” Cat revealed.

“Oh,” Nona looked slightly alarmed now, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. It’s just...since we’re going to be having Thanksgiving together, I guess I just wanted to make sure you know what’s going on.” Cat braced herself. She truly wasn’t expecting a negative reaction from Nona, but she still felt a thrum of nerves.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Nona said sweetly.

Cat knew she would really only have Nona’s attention for so long before she went off on one of her tangents, so she just said it. “Sam and I are together. Like, dating. Or girlfriends, really.”

Nona nodded along as Cat spoke and seemed to be waiting for more. When she realized that Cat was finished talking she said, “Oh, yes, I know.”

Cat blinked, “What do you mean, you know?”

Nona’s eyes widened expressively, “Well, it’s not exactly news, now is it, dear? I mean, how long has this been going on? It’s been at least a few months.”

Cat regarded her uncertainly, “It’s been about _a_ month,” she corrected.

Nona frowned, “Now that can’t be right.”

Cat felt unsettled, even though she was sure about this. “Sam and I got together last month,” she stated, “Right at the beginning of October.”

“Oh,” Nona replied lightly, “Well, I guess I misread things for awhile there. Or maybe I was reading them accurately and you two just hadn’t figured everything out yet,” She laughed disarmingly.

“Wait,” Cat frowned, “Why did you think we’d been together for months?”

Nona shrugged, “Now, I can’t tell you when I started to think you were together, but at some point it just became very obvious to me. The way you always stand so close, and hold hands, and do everything together. Even the way you two fight, I’ve never doubted that you love each other, underneath it all. But I guess I was misreading things.”

“You weren’t, not really,” Cat mused, thinking of the things Nona observed. Cat knew she’d loved Sam for such a long time, and it seemed like Sam had loved her quietly, too. “But...if you knew something was going on, why didn’t you say anything?” Maybe everything with Sam had happened at the right time, but Cat wondered what might have happened if she’d had an inkling that they were both falling in love before just a month ago.

“Because it’s not my place to do that,” Nona responded as if it were obvious. “I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. Your Uncle Lorenzo--gosh, I knew for _years_. Even when he was a little boy there were...I guess you would call them _signs_. Not that there are traits that _mean_ anything definitive about a child, but little things, that when I looked back on them all together, were pointing toward something.”

Nona looked at her imploringly, as if wondering whether Cat knew what she was trying to say. Cat did, so she assured her, “I know what you mean.”

Nona nodded gratefully, “So, yes, by the time he was a teenager and had ‘special friends,’ I knew,” Nona explained. “But he didn’t tell me anything, and I didn’t ask. And that was really hard, to know, and to be afraid for him, but to respect his privacy.”

“Why were you afraid for him?” Cat asked, “Because of church?”

Shaking her head, Nona replied quickly, “No, no, church...well, as divinely inspired as religion is, man still gets things wrong. And that was easy to rationalize, because I knew from the moment he was conceived that I would never stop loving my son. And I haven’t. But it was the 80s when he was a teenager first making his way out into the world. And back then we still didn’t know that much about AIDS, except that it was infecting gay men, and that it was killing them. Letting Lorenzo grow up and be independent, knowing what I knew even if he wouldn’t tell me, was the hardest thing I ever did as a mother.”

Nona fell silent for a moment as Cat thought about this. She knew about AIDS, of course, but it had somehow never occurred to her that her Uncle Lorenzo grew up and came out when it was still such a frightening specter, before medicine had at least found ways to manage the condition. She wondered how Nona had managed to not say anything.

Apparently, Nona was thinking along those lines. “Sometimes I regret not talking to him about it. He kept himself safe, and I heard about a few different ‘close friends’ and ‘roommates’ over the years. But I know he knew people who died, too. A lot of them. But he still didn’t really tell us until Christmas of ‘92. Giovanni was just a baby, so it was already an exciting year, but it was also the year Lorenzo came home and brought Christopher with him. And that was that. And Christopher has been a part of this family ever since.”

“Wow,” Cat replied, trying to imagine what that would have been like. Her two uncles had been a package deal her entire life, but she’d never considered much about how her Uncle Christopher had become a part of the family before. “Was anyone surprised? Or did everyone know, like you?”

“Well, your grandfather wasn’t thrilled about it at first,” Nona revealed. “I think he saw the same signs I saw when Lorenzo was younger, but he just didn’t want to believe it. But mostly, he just didn’t understand it, and you can’t accept what you refuse to understand. And that was hard, for a while, but my Silvio came around,” Nona said fondly. “And your father, well. I don’t know that he was surprised, but he was accepting. Angelo always looked out for his little brother. I’m sure they both could tell you stories about the times he had to fight off bullies.”

This was difficult for Cat to imagine, because her dad was always such _a dad_. The kind of man who worked a lot and needed his time at home to recharge, whether that was by watching TV in the living room or retreating to his office to read. She knew how hard it had been for him to take the lower-paying position when her parents moved to Idaho; she’d heard the fights about it. He’d put in so much time and energy getting to where he was and it was a setback.

But he wasn’t someone Cat could ever imagine throwing a punch, even though he was a man who tried to stay in shape by starting his day with morning workouts. It was something he’d tried to instill in his kids; he’d taught both Cat and Gio to swim, he’d urged Gio to play baseball and Cat to play soccer (though she’d ended up in dance lessons instead, which he’d accepted and her mom had been happier about). When Cat thought back to her childhood, she remembered her dad as occasionally gruff but mostly gentle, patient as he answered her questions, like when she’d sit tucked up next to him on the couch trying to understand the football game he was watching. But now, sometimes she wondered if he’d missed all of her teen years, because there were times it felt like he still thought she was nine years old.

“I never knew all that,” Cat told Nona quietly.

Nona nodded, “I think it was important to your dad that you and Gio grew up with Lorenzo and Christopher as a regular fixture in your lives,” she said simply.

They sat quietly for a moment, Nona gazing at the flowers while Cat considered everything she’d learned. Finally, Cat said, “I guess that’s why you saw what was happening with Sam and I before it was even really a thing.”

Nona smiled warmly and nodded, “Yes,” she agreed, then continued, “Sam is…a very brash young woman. But it’s been obvious for a long time that you care for one another a lot. When I came to Arizona to help you, she was so upset that she couldn’t come with me.” Nona paused, thoughtful. “She never did say why she couldn’t, but she was adamant. But I could tell she was heartbroken. And when she was the person you wanted to see most in the world on my PearPhone screen…” Nona shrugged.

“I know she was already welcome to Thanksgiving and Christmas last year,” Cat began, “But I guess I just wanted you to know how special she is to me this year.”

Nona wrapped her arm around Cat’s shoulders to give her a squeeze. “I’m happy you told me. Sam and I haven’t always understood each other, but when you went to Arizona, we learned more about each other. Sam has a tough outer shell, but she really just needs someone to take care of her.”

Cat laughed lightly, “I know. And she takes care of me, too.”

Nona nodded sagely, “I saw how attentive she was when you came home,” she commented, but then she rubbed her arms, “Maybe we should go back inside, is it getting chilly out here?”

“A little,” Cat agreed, and when they stood up, she impulsively hugged her Nona, who chuckled and hugged her back. “Thank you.”

Nona sounded a little surprised. “You never have to thank me for loving you.”

-

“Did we really meet in a garbage truck?”

The question surprised Sam, both the content and the fact that it seemed to come out of nowhere. They were cuddling on the couch together, after dinner, an old sitcom on the TV that Sam thought Cat was invested in. She was more thinking about her therapy session from the day, and Cat seemed to have had an emotional visit with Nona (good emotions, but it meant they were both a little drained by the evening).

But while Sam was mulling over her pain and shame surrounding talking about her mom in any serious way and enjoying the feeling of Cat’s head on her shoulder, her arm around her stomach, the way she always smelled like cookies even if she hadn’t done any baking that day, apparently Cat had been lost in her own thoughts.

“Yeah, we did,” Sam replied, “I mean, we were both at that party at Kenan Thompson’s house a couple of years ago, but we didn’t meet then.” It was a detail they’d put together after Sam had met Jade and realized who Tori was; Cat had always been somewhat secretive about her other friends until that point. In spite of the fact that Cat and all her Hollywood Arts friends had been there, Tori and Robbie (through Rex) were the only two of them that Sam had really interacted with.

“I remember you, though,” Cat said quietly, “From the rap battle. And because I knew who you were, of course. That happened, right?” she asked after a pause.

“Sure did. I took Rex down hard.” Now that she was thinking about that weird evening again, she was reflecting on how strange it was that the girl she’d fallen in love with had probably been ten feet away from her in the crowd, watching her perform. A part of her wanted to believe she’d noticed Cat, remembered the petite, beautiful girl with the bright red hair, but she knew that was probably wishful thinking.

“And then there was a lot of karaoke,” Cat remembered, “I wish I hadn’t been on vocal rest. Maybe I could’ve sang. I had this fantasy of us all singing together.”

“But instead you had a little robot voice,” Sam teased, “I do kinda wish I’d heard that.” Cat had described the headband she’d worn to Sam before, and the way it had vocalized her typos and even gibberish keysmashes, which had made Sam laugh a lot.

“But then maybe you wouldn’t have saved me from that trash truck, if we met back then,” Cat replied.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’d be like, hey, there’s that cutie from that party a few years back, and she’s in the trash!” She tightened her arm around Cat’s shoulders.

Cat giggled in reply, “Maybe you wouldn’t have liked me,” she suggested, but moved on from that quickly, “I guess we were meant to meet in a trash truck, though.”

“Guess so,” Sam pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She figured that was that, but then the next day, Sam was attempting to be responsible by assessing what she needed to add to the grocery list while Cat was sketching out an outfit she wanted to make for her webstore. And again, it seemed to come out of nowhere when Cat asked, “You really won a texting competition one-handed, right?”

But Sam was focused on counting the number of canned hams she had left, so she didn’t elaborate, only confirmed, “Yep, sure did.”

Cat merely hummed in response, and Sam forgot about the question as she shifted to assessing how much root beer she had left in her minifridge in the bedroom.

But that evening, as they were getting ready for bed together (it was a Carly night, but Sam figured she should at least put on her pajamas and maybe brush her teeth so she could just come right to bed after her call), Sam had the bathroom door open as she washed her face and saw Cat go into her side of the closet. It was obvious, because Cat tended to keep her own closet door closed, so when she walked over and Sam heard the sound of clothes hangers scraping the rod without hearing the door roll open, she asked, “Looking for something?”

“We’ve opened this safe, right?” Cat asked, and Sam heard the sound of her knuckles rapping on it.

“Yeah,” Sam drawled, “Dice locked us in there and we had to do unspeakable things to an old can, and then later on we set up our Blue Dog Soda bootlegging operation in there.” But it had dawned on Sam that this was a pattern, so she dried off her face as quickly as possible and stepped out into the bedroom. “You okay?” she asked Cat.

Cat blinked from where she was standing in Sam’s half of the closet, next to the clothes that Sam was still mostly managing to hang back up once Kiala washed them for her. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied.

“I just mean,” Sam said slowly, trying to consider what she wanted to say, “It’s not that I mind you asking me questions about things we’ve done together, but is it something you’re worried about, or...what’s going on?”

Cat stepped out of the closet space, shoulders dropping a little. “Yeah, it’s...therapy homework. Dr. Penny is having me keep a journal so that if I remember weird stuff I can ask someone else and see where things differ. She said I would likely find that most of my memories are accurate and I guess so far that’s been the case.”

Sam watched her as she went to sit on her bed. “This doll thing really messed with your head, didn’t it?” she asked. When Cat didn’t answer, just looked ashamed, Sam said, “Sorry, that...wasn’t the best way to say that. I’m just trying to say like...sometimes life is weird and that doesn’t mean stuff didn’t happen.”

Cat frowned, “What do you mean?”

Sam came over to sit next to her on her bed. “Like, we’ve had a lot of weird adventures, that’s for sure. Stuff that I’m sure would sound weird to other people. Feuds with British children, that time you lost my motorcycle, that other time that little brat with the stuffed bear launched our pineapple full of money across town.”

“Well, she _did_ warn us,” Cat mumbled, presumably regarding the awful child.

“I’m just saying, our lives might be weirder than other people’s, and that’s okay. My life has always been weird. Did I ever tell you about the time that we got kidnapped for _iCarly_?”

Cat shivered under her arm, “Yes, I remember Nora quite well.”

“Nah, not even that time, it was when we went to Japan. Some rival web show hosts lured us into their car and tried to leave us out in the middle of nowhere so we couldn’t compete for an award.”

“Wow, really?” Cat asked.

“Yep,” Sam replied, “Or the time that we were on Jimmy Fallon and Gibby flashed the entire world.”

“I remember that,” Cat replied, “I mean, I looked away, but I was watching.”

“Yeah, it was awful. It made Carly puke. Oh, or how about the time I was trying to come home from Canada without a passport and so Gibby packed me in his luggage but someone else grabbed his bag and long story short, I ended up in Malaysia.”

“ _What_?” Cat sounded fascinated, “You definitely never told me about that.”

“Yeah, it was a mess,” Sam replied, “I kept trying to find someone who spoke Japanese but then I realized that a lot of people there spoke English, so I was able to figure out where I was, and then I had to call Carly and she had to help me find the US Embassy so I could even get home. Kinda hard explaining how I even got there, considering I don’t have a passport, but because I was a minor, they just got me home as soon as possible without _too_ many questions.”

“That’s pretty scary,” Cat replied.

Sam shrugged, “It was weird. But that’s my point. Sometimes life is just fucking _weird_. And it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you or the way you think. And I just really hope we keep making weird memories together.”

“Me, too.”

-

It was a lazy Tuesday afternoon, one without any babysitting jobs on the schedule, somewhere between lunch and dinner (Cat figured she had about an hour or so before she put Sam on vegetable chopping duty while she prepared the crust for triple meat pot pies). They'd been watching an old 80s movie about a cute robot who came to life, but Cat had missed the last twenty minutes or so because Sam started kissing her and Cat had kissed back and they still hadn't stopped.

In fact, they were now lying on the couch, the TV still playing (though Sam had turned it down at one point), and Cat's body stretched along Sam's, her nose nudging her girlfriend's earlobe as she pressed kisses to her neck, blonde hair swept aside so Cat had nothing but an expanse of skin to drag her lips across. A light groan escaped from Sam, a low gravelly sound that accompanied the movement of fingertips that pulled along Cat's back.

Cat's own fingers had been trailing back and forth along Sam's side, somewhere just above the bottom hem of her sweater (the one with a skeleton in a top hat who looked like he might be a real estate agent for haunted houses). Her head rested, for a moment, against Sam's shoulder, her heart pounding (and resonating through her just like the bass drum whenever she performed onstage with a live band back at Hollywood Arts), the way it always did when they did this, when they kissed and touched and loved each other. She found herself slipping her fingers under the shirt, wanting to touch Sam's skin, to feel its warmth against her outstretched palm.

Again, another guttural sound from Sam. "You can go higher, if you want," she mumbled against Cat's ear.

With a hum and another series of kisses placed along the space where Sam's neck met her shoulder, Cat slid her hand higher, along Sam's stomach to the bottom of her ribs. "Like here?" she asked, her voice a light and sweet whisper.

Sam's breath sucked in and, as she pushed it back out, she said, "Little higher."

Cat allowed her fingers to move upward, delicately walking along the smooth fabric of what she was pretty sure was a specific purple satin bra, then extending and relaxing as she gently cupped Sam's breast, feeling warmth flood her body, not from the contact with the body laid out beneath her, but from within. She knew she was now in a position that gave her new access to something more intimate, she could feel the firmness of a nipple forming under her palm, through the purple satin. It would be so easy to tug or pull at the undergarment and really explore more of Sam. But Cat was content, for the moment, with just the idea of it, of knowing she could, when she was ready.

She leveraged herself back into a position where she had access to Sam's lips, kissing her, lightly licking her bottom lip, and when those lips parted, just enough, Cat's tongue was grazing Sam's, drawing small sounds from both of them. When Cat pulled back, just a touch, Sam always chased down another kiss, one that pulled Cat back in, passing more time until the movie was over and something else began playing.

It was about time to start dinner. But before Cat pulled her hand away from where it was still resting on Sam's breast, she hooked her fingertips over the top edge of the bra, sensing the softness of the skin and how it moved with the sharpness of Sam's breath as she did. She wanted to know what would happen if she crossed underneath that border, but she was willing to hold onto it for next time. There was a thrill in pacing herself, at least for now.

She had a feeling that the more Sam reacted so eagerly to what she wanted to do, the harder it would be for Cat to stop. Especially since they literally lived together, alone. But she wanted to let things unfold slowly so she could appreciate each new moment and discovery. Sam seemed on board with that plan, so far.

"Probably should get dinner started," Cat said, reluctantly.

There was a chuckle from Sam. "You love me."

"And you love food," Cat replied with a kiss to Sam's nose. "And me."

"Damn right."

-

After dinner, Cat retreated to her desk, apparently inspired by an idea for a new outfit, while Sam curled up on the couch with _The Shining_. Like most things she read, she really needed time to delve into it for it to keep her interest, and she’d only had a couple of opportunities since she picked it up, so she wasn’t very far along yet.

But maybe it was a good idea, particularly tonight. Earlier, having Cat on top of her, her soft hand inching up the skin of her torso before gently covering her bra-clad breast, had been incredibly intense. Sam’s mind had absolutely flown away from her, spinning out all the possibilities of what they could do together, how easy it would be for clothes to come off, something she was certain they both wanted on some level. But Sam had stayed mindful of the boundaries she and Cat had agreed on, and poured all her pent up passion into kissing until their lips were swollen and Sam was mostly able to ignore the sensation of her pulse between her legs.

After that, there was no time for the privacy of a shower to act as a release valve, as she got tapped to help Cat with dinner, which she didn’t mind. And as the meat pies baked, she and Cat had checked her website together and gotten drawn into a conversation about Cat’s work that had only just turned to lazy kissing when the timer went off and the triple meat pies (which Cat explained did not mean triple the meat to replace the vegetables, but that they contained appropriate amounts of chicken, beef and ham) were ready.

Now, Sam was too full to consider showering, and figured she’d handle her lingering libido with the distraction of a creepy story.

She had a good stretch of time to read as the evening progressed, the story punctuated by the sounds of Cat humming as she sketched, or the snick of scissors as she cut fabric, or the whir of her sewing machine. But as it got later, Cat came back over to the couch. “It’s almost time for the new _Slightly Less Gorgeous_ ,” she reported.

Sam grunted, trying in vain to finish the paragraph she was on, “Sure,” she mumbled anyway.

As it turned out, though, the show wasn’t Cat’s focus, because it had barely begun before Cat was drawing Sam toward her to kiss her.

 _Oh_. Well, Sam had no objections, and whatever the Stephen King novel had done to let her forget about sex for a little while was out the window with the first gentle touch of Cat’s tongue against her own.

Things escalated slowly, letting Sam revel in the feel of Cat’s lips, of the faint flavor of bubblegum lip gloss, but even with time spent chasing each other’s kisses, it was still felt like a shock of tingling warmth all over Sam’s skin when Cat’s fingers slid up under her sweater again.

They were still seated next to each other, and Sam pulled away enough to welcome Cat’s touch, feeling the delicate way her hand caressed past Sam’s belly, traced over ribs and then slid smooth over the silky fabric of Sam’s bra. Sam let out a low whimper, stifling a larger sound that wanted to come out, letting Cat’s lips follow the line of her jaw until they met the sensitive spot just under her ear, and Sam let out a sigh, closing her eyes, feeling adrift in sensation, warm lips on her neck, gentle fingers closing over her breast in a careful squeeze, the bra feeling like nothing between them but also everpresent, perhaps the only thing keeping Sam from losing her mind.

Sam’s hands had been mostly wrapped around Cat, tangled in her hair or dipping beneath the hem of her top to run fingertips over the hot skin of her lower back. But now as she let a hand run around to the front of Cat’s body, letting it find its way to her breast, Sam wondered if the new ground Cat was mapping beneath her sweater was open to her, as well.

Sam found her voice, as difficult as it was in the moment. “What if I want to do...what you’re doing...like, to you?”

The kisses on her neck paused, and Cat pulled back to look at her, eyes warm and bright, lower lip tucked between her teeth alluringly. “Then you should do it,” Cat replied in a clear invitation.

This time, when they surged back together, Cat’s hand fell away from Sam’s breast, which was disappointing until she realized it was because Cat’s arms were circling around her, pulling Sam on top of her as she lay back on the couch. Sam felt her stomach flip as she hovered over Cat, giving herself just a moment a consider the risks of such a position and reassuring herself that she knew where the boundaries were and wouldn’t cross them, before melting into her, careful to keep her legs closed and alongside Cat’s so nothing could escalate, but then kissing her fully, feeling the heady joy of Cat’s arms around her. Sam shifted onto her side just enough to give herself leverage to begin playing with the hem of Cat’s shirt, alert for any reaction.

She got one: an audible inhale through Cat’s nose at the first touch of her fingertips on Cat’s belly, Cat’s mouth pressing firmer against her own in an eager kiss. Sam explored the skin of her stomach for a moment, noting which spots made Cat squirm and giggle against her lips, which spots made her gasp, as she slowly made her way up the lean torso to slowly graze a finger along the underside of her bra, as much of it as she could reach.

Cat whimpered a little against her lips at the contact, and Sam explored the contours of her breast beneath her bra with just her fingertips for a moment, tracing just barely over the skin just past the top edge of the bra before retreating to safer territory, skimming past a nipple, which elicited a gasp from both of them, before letting her palm cover the whole area, fingers flexing barely in a light caress, letting the potency of her position flood her veins, feeling Cat shift and breathe harder beneath her.

She wondered if it was getting too intense and she pulled away from their kisses to really look at Cat, hand keeping still on her breast. Cat was flushed, dreamy-eyed, and smiling beatifically, but her forehead crinkled as she looked at Sam. “Okay?” Cat breathed, a gentle verbal check-in.

Sam appreciated it. “Very,” she replied, surging back down to kiss Cat more, letting her fingers explore softly as she let Cat’s tongue chase her own, a reassurance of their shared delight as they explored new territory together. And more than physically. Being with Cat was proving every day how much more potent everything was when you were loved, and you loved them in return.

-

The week pushed along with their regular routines--therapy for Cat, but it was Sam’s week off. A couple of babysitting gigs. Cat was gradually thinning out her stuffed animals, having opened her Stuffed Animal Adoption Service to the kids who came over to be babysat. She and Sam were popular with their charges, and Cat knew kids liked presents, so even those who were maybe getting a little too “old” for stuffed animals by some (ridiculous) standards were happy to take home something that they felt bonded them to their favorite babysitters, and that demonstrated the trust their babysitters had in them in return, to be given the responsibility to take on something precious.

Cat’s goal was to make it so that all her animals aside from Mr. Purple could be kept on the shelf above her bed, freeing up space on the bed itself. And though it was hard every time she adopted one out, she did feel good about the idea of progress, of space on the bed for Sam, of sending little tokens of love out into the world with the children.

But Cat’s routine was disrupted on Saturday, when she didn’t get her expected email from Gio.

It upset her a little, more in the sense of feeling literally off-balance because her expectations weren’t satisfied than in the sense of being sad. She could rationalize it, at first. Maybe he just missed his window for computer time because he was doing something else. Maybe something was going on at the facility that meant no one was allowed computer access. Maybe he was just being delayed by a day. Cat figured she’d hear from him soon, one way or another.

But after another week busy with babysitting, creating outfits, extensive make-out sessions, and therapy for both of them, Cat anticipated another Saturday email from Gio, but again, was disappointed.

This time, it hurt a little more. It felt like a bad omen, maybe a sign that Gio wasn’t doing well. But Cat had no real way to contact him. All she could do was wait to hear from him again, and she felt despondent at the loss of their connection.

Sam noticed, of course. Cat had mentioned missing Gio’s email the week before, and Sam had been especially attentive this particular Saturday, hoping for Cat to get some good news from her brother. But when it was clear that no email was forthcoming, Sam had done what she could to be supportive, by going out to pick up dinner so Cat didn’t have to cook, and snuggling with her in bed for much of the evening.

Cat’s sadness lingered on Monday, which sucked, because she’d really enjoyed what she and Sam had been exploring lately. Sam’s gentle, reverent touches beneath her shirt made her feel like nothing else had yet. But while she had been able to muster the desire after the first Saturday with no email, this second Saturday left her feeling dull, numb, wanting little more than to be held and kissed by Sam, seeking comfort instead of passion.

That evening, just before dinner, when her phone rang and the screen showed _Mom_ , Cat braced herself mentally, but she also felt a strong sense of anticipation. Right now, her parents were her only line of contact to Gio.

Sam looked at her questioningly from the couch as she picked up her buzzing phone, the confusion on her face clearing as Cat said, “Hi, Mom.” Sam stood up, face concerned, but Cat waved her off and began walking toward the bedroom for some privacy. Sam reluctantly subsided.

“Hello, dear,” her mom, Kathy, greeted, “Happy early Thanksgiving!”

“Thanks.” Cat put a smile on her face, hoping it would translate into her voice, “You, too. How is everything?”

“Oh, as well as it can be,” Kathy replied, “Looking forward to the holiday weekend, anyway.”

“I bet,” Cat replied, but the curiosity was building inside her, and she couldn’t help but skip the regular pleasantries to ask, “Mom, is Gio okay?”

Her mom sounded surprised. “Why, yes, he’s fine,” she replied easily.

“I just haven’t heard from him lately,” Cat elaborated, “Is there some reason he hasn’t been able to email me?”

“Nothing that I’m aware of,” her mother continued in the same tone, “Your father and I saw him yesterday, and he’s doing very well.”

“But then,” Cat started, frustrated, “If he’s fine, then…”

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure why he hasn’t emailed you,” Kathy said soothingly, “But I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.”

It wasn’t enough. Cat was frustrated that there was no answer, no explanation, not even a message from Gio explaining _why_. Gio wouldn’t do that to her. Cat had the sinking feeling she was being misled, but there was no way to prove it or to get her mother to change her mind. “Okay,” she sighed, “Tell Gio I miss him, okay?”

“I will,” her mom said.

“You’re seeing him on Thursday, right? He’s coming to Thanksgiving?”

There was the briefest hesitation before her mother replied, “We’re going to spend Thanksgiving with him, in the facility,” she explained smoothly.

“But--” Cat started, “He said if he was doing well, he’d be able to spend Thanksgiving at your house!”

“Perhaps he misunderstood.”

It was possible, Cat supposed, but she really didn’t think that’s what was happening. Something had happened. Gio had backslid somehow, or gotten into trouble. But there was no way to be sure. She took a deep breath, trying to reign in her frustration.

“So,” her mother continued, “You’re spending Thanksgiving with your Nona, right?”

“Yeah,” Cat confirmed, “With Nona and Sam.”

“Ah, right. Sam.” Kathy’s tone had changed slightly, “Gio told us you were dating Sam. So, tell me all about him. What’s he like?”

Cat was thrown for a moment, the sensation like whiplash, and a small laugh escaped her before she could control it. “Mom,” she chided, “Sam is my _roommate_. And she’s my girlfriend.”

Silence for a moment, then her mom let out a long, drawn-out, “Oooh.” Another pause, as Kathy perhaps put together pieces and reconstructed her image of what Cat’s life was currently like. “Well, in that case. How is she?”

She sounded a little stilted and awkward, but it wasn’t a bad reaction. Cat was relieved. Her mom had never been anything but welcoming to her Uncle Lorenzo and Uncle Christopher, but Cat imagined it might be different for her to have a child with a same-sex partner as opposed to a brother-in-law. “Sam is really good,” Cat reported, “She’s been helping me with babysitting and with an online store, and making sure I get to therapy.”

“Well, that’s really good to hear,” her mother spoke in a measured tone, “Would you like to speak to your father?” she asked.

“Sure,” Cat replied.

“Okay, bye, dear, I love you,” Kathy said, and Cat heard the sound of a kiss through the phone.

“Love you too, Mom.”

There was a shuffling sound, a brief, muffled exchange, and then Cat heard her dad’s voice. “Hey, Kitty-Cat.”

“Dad,” Cat sighed audibly, “I told you not to call me that.”

“Sorry,” Angelo said, some of the joviality leaving his voice. In a more serious tone, he asked, “How is everything?”

It was like this a lot when she talked to her dad. It was as though he had to be reminded that she wasn’t a little kid anymore each time, and then he suddenly didn’t know how to talk to her. “I’m doing fine,” she told him succinctly. She also knew her mom was likely to fill him in on any details they didn’t talk about.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. Cat waited for him to say more. She remembered a time when she was in junior high school when her dad told her she talked too much. She’d laughed it off at the time, but as she got older, she realized it lived in her brain. She could forgive him, and she could rationalize it--he was tired, and busy, and she _had_ been prattling on nervously about something that would probably have been more suitable to try to talk to Jade about. But it had changed her relationship with her father.

Or maybe their relationship was going to change anyway, as Cat grew up, and as her parents were forced to focus on Gio and his many issues. Regardless, Cat couldn’t help but feel like the moment when she’d sought his attention and been brushed off had opened a chasm between them, one they hadn’t been able to bridge since.

“So I heard you have a boyfriend,” Angelo stated, and his tone turned slightly comedic, “I’m not too far away to tell him he’d better treat you right or he’ll regret it.”

Cat was very tempted to just tell him to ask her mom when he got off the phone with her, but instead she sighed and said, “I just told Mom, Sam isn’t a boy, she’s my roommate, and we’re dating now.”

“Oh, wow,” he sounded surprised, “We really misunderstood Gio on that one. Sorry, Kitt--Cat,” he corrected himself. “Well, does she treat you well?”

“Yes,” Cat couldn’t keep the fondness out of her voice, not that she really needed to, “She’s really great, Dad.”

“Good,” he said, more firmly, “That’s all I care about.” They were quiet for a moment, but it felt less stiff and stilted than the moment before, and her dad asked, “You’re seeing your doctors, right?”

“Yes,” Cat assured him.

“Good. Okay, well. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m glad you’re doing well, and you tell us if you ever need anything, okay?”

“Okay, Dad.”

“Love you, Kitty-Cat.”

“ _Dad_ ,” Cat admonished, “I love you, too.”

Cat hung up feeling conflicted and a little frustrated and still acutely aware of her disconnect from Gio, and the fact that she couldn’t find a reason for it. She wandered back out into the living room, where she could see Sam’s leg slung up over to top of the couch, but it lowered as Cat grew closer, and Sam’s head peeked up over the top instead. “You okay?” Sam asked.

Cat shrugged, “They wouldn’t tell me what’s going on with Gio and they thought you were my boyfriend,” she said succinctly.

“Yikes,” Sam commented.

Cat nodded, and Sam moved her foot so that Cat could sit next to her on the couch. “Will you hold me until I feel like making dinner?” she asked.

“Better yet,” Sam replied, sitting up and reaching for Cat and coaxing her to curl up with her head on Sam’s chest. “I’ll hold you ‘til I go pick up dinner.”

Cat sighed, “Thank you for loving me.”

Sam chuckled, “You love me, too.”

-

It was a Dr. Russ day and Sam was wandering the aisles of New to Yoused, mostly just poking at covers that looked interesting but not really having the attention to read the backs of any books. When she'd entered the store, Harmony was behind the counter helping a short line of customers but they must've all been rung up because the shop owner appeared at the end of the stretch of shelves and offered a smile.

"Killing time?" she asked, her eyes drawn to something on the shelf in front of her that must have been in the wrong spot, because she deftly moved it to a different place among the books around it.

In Sam's time as a juvenile delinquent, she'd encountered probably hundreds of store owners, managers, supervisors, and employees who employed various tactics to determine if she was planning to shoplift something (and, to be fair, she often had been). But this felt like a natural check-in from someone who wasn't threatened by Sam's presence in the store.

Sam nodded and shrugged. "Yeah. If that's cool."

"Bookstores are made for browsing and anyone who says differently is a fascist," said Harmony. "I'm actually glad to see you today because I have something to show you." She began to move for the front of the store and Sam followed, curious. Harmony slipped behind the checkout counter and pulled out a slim photo album from somewhere below, opening it to four pictures of a motorcycle. "These have to be from the mid-80s."

Sam leaned on the counter and peered at the image. "Holy shit, is that a Wrigley?" While her dream bike was the Sterling she'd ended up with, there were plenty of other motorcycles that piqued her interest. And the 1972 Wrigley Cruiser she was looking at was one of them.

"Sure is. I actually bought it from a guy who did the custom builds for a lot of biker movies around that time." Harmony flipped to a previous page, then tapped a photo of two very bearded biker type men standing on either side of the same motorcycle, one handing something to the other. "Here we go, that's him giving me the key the day I bought it."

Sam's eyes studied the photo, immediately realizing Harmony had just revealed something very personal about herself. She wasn't quite sure what to say. So, she kept things on topic, "Do you still have it?"

"The Wrigley? No, I eventually sold it to a collector to help fund the store." Harmony flipped a couple more pages, maybe indicating to Sam she was allowed to look through the photos. There was a picture of several motorcycles lined up against the backdrop of the ocean that caught her attention.

"Is this Santa Barbara?"

"Sure is. You do the loop, yet?"

"Not yet. Just some desert rides, so far."

Harmony walked Sam through more pages of the small album, mostly shiny bikes in picturesque locations. It was a lot like the book Sam had bought on that first day, but with a narrator who had lived through all of it.

-

After their usual pleasantries, Dr. Russ got down to business with Cat. “So, how have you been feeling lately, Cat?”

“Sad,” Cat replied listlessly.

Dr. Russ nodded, “Yes, your mood questionnaire indicated as much. And, forgive me for saying so, but you don’t appear to be your normal, cheerful self.”

Cat shrugged. Riding to her appointment was about as fun as it usually was, but her reactions were subdued, even to herself. Sam was being very gentle with her, and she felt warm from her attention, but it wasn’t quite enough to lift her overall mood.

“How long have you been feeling depressed?” Dr. Russ asked.

“I guess a day or so,” Cat replied.

Dr. Russ nodded, “Did something precipitate this change in mood?”

“Yeah,” Cat said. She’d been thinking about this a bit, anticipating this sort of question from her psychiatrist. “I’ve been keeping in touch with my brother--the one who’s in a residential inpatient treatment program in Idaho--we’ve been talking over email but I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks.” She qualified this because she talked to Dr. Russ about her family less than she talked about them with Dr. Penny, and she wasn’t sure he’d remember the figures in her life quite as well. “I talked to my parents yesterday and I don’t think they were being honest with me about how my brother is doing. And even though I know I’m going to have a really good Thanksgiving with Sam and my Nona, it does make me a little sad that I won’t be spending it with my parents.”

“All of that sounds very difficult,” Dr. Russ said sympathetically.

“I think some of it might be seasonal, too,” Cat offered, “I don’t know that I’ve ever really had seasonal depression, but it does kind of make me feel slower and sleepier when the sun sets so early in the day.”

“I suppose that leads to my next question regarding your depressed state. It seems you’re prepared to attribute most of your feelings to life circumstances, and that’s normal enough, everyone feels depressed sometimes. Have you felt particularly depressed otherwise while on the TabulaPro?”

Cat shook her head, “Not really.”

“Okay. Have you had any thoughts of harming yourself, or fantasies of dying, even without a specific suicidal intention?”

“No.”

“That’s good to hear. So, even if you’re feeling like this is a normal depressive fluctuation in mood, we should still discuss whether you want to continue taking the TabulaPro. If you feel like your depression is debilitating or if it gets worse, it may be a sign that it’s not a good fit for you.”

“I like the TabulaPro so far,” Cat replied, “I feel less swept up in my own thoughts and like I can consider what I say more carefully. And even though I’m not back in school yet, I’ve been working on doll clothes for my webstore, and being able to stay focused on my projects has felt really good.”

Dr. Russ nodded, taking in what she said, “Well, if you think it’s working for you, we can continue your prescription for now. But please don’t hesitate to call me if you have any thoughts of self-harm. We’ll continue to keep an eye on your mood.”

They spent the rest of the session talking a little bit about the circumstances that had upset Cat, though they were also both aware that Cat was seeing Dr. Penny tomorrow, where she could go into everything in more detail, but Dr. Russ was happy to listen and express his sympathy for what had upset her, so Cat left her appointment feeling a little better.

As she waited for the receptionist to fill out the appointment card for her next visit, Cat quickly sent a text to Sam letting her know she was finished, but once she had the card in her hand, she didn't feel much like waiting inside. It was cool out, but still sunny and she thought maybe a little walk would feel nice. She knew Sam was likely at either the used bookstore a few doors down or the Jet Brew on the corner, so she stepped outside and closed her eyes as the sunshine hit her cheeks, making her feel a similar warmth as when Sam smiled at her in that way that made her feel special or scooted over so they could cuddle together on the couch or surprised her with a kiss when she turned around and hadn't been expecting Sam to be right behind her.

Maybe today would be better than yesterday. Not maybe. It would be, Cat decided.

She skipped her way down the block to the bookshop she knew Sam always visited, then pushed her way through the door, hearing the digital "ding-dong" sound as she did. There, at the counter, was Sam and an older woman, looking at something open in front of them as they talked.

"Hey," Sam said, immediately after realizing she was there. "Sorry, we were just caught up talking, I was about to come get you."

"It's okay. I figured you'd be in here or getting coffee." Cat flashed a smile at the woman Sam had been chatting with. "Hi, I'm Cat."

"Lovely to meet you, Cat. I'm Harmony."

"That's my favorite part of the song to sing!" Cat blurted out before making an immediate effort to calm down. Her medication had significantly helped in this area, but she still sometimes just got so excited that reactions just burst out of her. Just as she was about to mentally chastise herself for losing control, Sam's arm slipped around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Okay, maybe it hadn't been so bad.

Even Harmony was smiling at her. At both of them, actually. "Oh, aren't you two just the sweetest thing I've ever seen."

Cat noticed Sam's blush at the comment. "Sam's sweet but she's also tough," she said.

"Oh, I know she is. You have to be to keep a Sterling under control." Harmony looked between the two of them. "And everyone knows redheads are trouble," she added, with a wink.

"Okay, okay," Sam said with a sigh, though she smiled through it. "I think we're leaving now." But then she looked at Cat. "Unless you wanted to look for anything in here."

Cat was interested in the books that surrounded her, but she was also hungry. Which meant Sam was probably starving. "I was thinking we could get lunch."

"Please, take the young lady to lunch," Harmony encouraged, waving them off.

They exited the bookshop, hand in hand, the weirdness about the week feeling like it might evaporate into the Los Angeles afternoon. But, on the ride home, Cat's mind began to drift to the upcoming holiday, to the conversation with her mother, to the missing emails from Gio. By that evening, her mood was back to what it had been before, as if her good spirits had set with the sun.

The next day, Sam drove her to her appointment with Dr. Penny. Cat’s low mood was lingering, and she was hopeful that talking some of this out with Dr. Penny would help, but really, the thing she thought would actually make her feel better was an email from Gio, and there was no telling when or if something like that might happen.

“How are you doing today, Cat?” Dr. Penny asked, her voice already warm, compassionate.

“Kinda sad,” Cat replied.

Dr. Penny’s eyes remained fixed on her as she nodded. “I did hear from Dr. Russ that you’re having a bit of a hard week. Did you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Cat confirmed. She assumed that Dr. Penny might’ve gotten a bit of a rundown from Dr. Russ about what was going on, but she figured she should tell the full story anyway. “You remember last week I said I hadn’t heard from Gio and I was a little worried.” Dr. Penny responded in the affirmative, so Cat continued, “Well, I didn’t hear from him last Saturday either, and that started to make me worry that he wasn’t doing okay, because I don’t really know why else he wouldn’t be able to email me.”

“I’m so sorry. Not knowing must be really hard for you.”

“Yeah. And then my mom called on Monday and we talked but it didn’t help anything. She just told me that Gio was doing fine and that she didn’t know why he wasn’t emailing me but that’s...it’s not a satisfactory answer. And I guess Gio told my parents I was dating Sam but they weren’t paying enough attention to realize that he meant _the Sam that has lived with me for over a year_ because they thought it meant I had some random new boyfriend.”

“That sounds very frustrating.”

“Yeah,” Cat subsided, “So I guess I’ve just mostly been feeling...down, since then.”

“I can understand your feelings. I know you’ve mentioned before that your parents not telling you information about your brother is a pattern.”

“It is. So I don’t know why I’m surprised. They’re always hiding what’s going on with him.”

“You usually don’t ask directly about him this way, do you?” Dr. Penny observed.

“No, I guess not,” Cat realized, “In the past I’ve usually just asked how he was and let them tell me. But back then I was counting on sporadic letters from him instead of regularly scheduled emails.”

“I know that we can’t know for sure what is going on in the absence of Gio’s own side of the story, but since you asked a direct question and didn’t get an answer that felt right to you...is this the first time you feel like your parents lied to you?”

The realization washed over Cat, feeling cold and shocking like getting hit with an unexpectedly tall wave at the beach. But unlike a wave at the beach, which she might try to dodge and then squeal in delight when it hit her, this just settled in her guts like a chip of ice that refused to melt. “I don’t think they would _lie_ to me,” she started, hearing her own voice break as she spoke.

Dr. Penny shifted in her seat. “Perhaps I misunderstood, but I thought it sounded like you didn’t think they were telling you the full story about Gio, even when you asked.”

“I...that is what I think, I just...I don’t think they’re _lying_. I think they’re just...hiding things. So I don’t worry. Because Gio is _going_ to be okay, eventually. He just has trouble sometimes.” Dr. Penny was listening attentively and nodding along to what Cat was saying encouragingly, but Cat felt like the word _lie_ was echoing in her head, in Dr. Penny’s voice, and she looked away as she felt a flare of anger.

“I’ve upset you,” Dr. Penny said in a subdued voice.

Cat closed her eyes as she felt tears begin to well up in them, which occasionally happened when she got angry, and took a deep breath to try to will them away. But Dr. Penny was clearly waiting for her to speak, so she just said, “Yes.”

“I apologize if I’ve hurt you,” Dr. Penny continued, her voice still soft and soothing. “I would be happy to talk about why you’re upset if you like.”

“It’s just...my mother didn’t lie to me,” Cat said firmly.

“Okay,” Dr. Penny agreed, “Would you like to use a different word for how you feel that exchange went with your mother?”

Just the suggestion of it made Cat feel a little better. Dr. Penny knew she sometimes liked to use unusual words or pronunciations for things that were difficult, and it felt like an invitation to do so here. “She was just...obscuring things,” Cat decided, choosing a word she probably wouldn’t use otherwise. Hiding things Cat could make sense of. Sometimes you had to do that when the full truth would hurt too much, like when Jade was dating Beck and Cat never told her that she thought she was more fun before he was her boyfriend. That would have been mean. So Cat had supported them. Which wasn’t a lie, because she did like them both. It was just obscuring things.

“Okay,” Dr. Penny nodded, “Do you want to talk about whether your parents have obscured things before?”

“They have,” Cat said easily, “They usually just...gloss over things.”

“I also wonder,” Dr. Penny began tentatively, “How it felt when you realized your parents thought you had a boyfriend.”

Cat frowned at this, “It was frustrating,” she admitted, easily enough.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” Cat began, taking a moment to think about it. “I think I understand why they would. They never knew before that I might date another girl. I never told them.”

“So, on top of them misunderstanding, you came out to them?” Dr. Penny asked.

“Sort of, I guess. I mean, I didn’t label myself to them or anything. But they know I’m dating Sam, my roommate who is a _girl_ , so they know I’m...something.”

“Is labeling yourself important to you?”

“I’m not sure. I’m still trying to figure some of that out. I’ve liked girls and guys in the past, but…” she wasn’t sure how to say that this was the first time she felt really _sexual_ with someone, or at least it was, before sadness seemed to overtake everything good in her brain this week. “It’s different with Sam,” she settled on, “And I don’t know how much of that is because of me discovering who I am now that I’m on medication that’s better for me and how much of it is just normal discovery.”

“Did your parents have a lot of questions about Sam?”

“Not really,” Cat frowned again, “My mom got off the phone pretty quickly. My dad just wanted to know if she treated me well.” She sighed, “My parents aren’t homophobic, but I guess they were surprised. I wish they wouldn’t have been. Gio told them--which is okay with me--but I wish they’d realized what it meant before I had to correct them. But it had to be because they were assuming I was straight.”

Cat let herself believe that as she told Dr. Penny her rationalization. Because the alternative--that her parents hadn’t paid enough attention to her when they’d talked over the past year to even _realize_ how important Sam was to her--was too painful to consider.

-

Even though Thanksgiving was the next day, Jade was still at the dorms, since they stayed open over Thanksgiving break and she claimed she was getting enough family time over the holiday itself. So she and Sam were meeting up as normal during Cat’s appointment with Dr. Penny.

“We started doing joint Thanksgiving last year,” Jade explained to Sam, “Because I used to do Thanksgiving with my dad’s family, but since I don’t talk to him anymore, that’s not happening. And it was gonna be boring and sad with just my mom. So we merged with Tori’s family.”

“Is that weird? With both your families?” Sam wondered. All she really knew was that Jade found her mom annoying and embarrassing, which was relatable. Sam couldn’t imagine trying to introduce her own mom to Cat’s parents, and she hadn’t even met Cat’s parents yet.

“Not really,” Jade replied, “My brother still does Thanksgiving with our dad, so it’s really just my mom and me going to Tori’s. And I like Tori’s family. Well, her parents and her grandma anyway. Her sister, less so. And our moms get along really well, weirdly enough.”

“Huh,” Sam muttered. Such a scenario in her own life would probably be a disaster, so she was glad that her own Thanksgiving would be pretty small. “We’re going to Elderly Acres again. Cat wanted to do a whole big thing at the apartment, but she’s just not up for it this year.”

That had been a conversation from Monday of this week, when it was time to pick up a turkey they’d reserved. Cat had made a huge grocery list the week before in preparation, and Goomer was willing to drive them. But faced with the prospect of actually doing all that cooking, when she felt as down as she did, she’d balked. And then she’d cried because she knew Sam had been looking forward to it.

But Sam had assured her that as long as they got to spend the holiday together, that she didn’t care what they had. When Cat had cried again that she was so sorry she wasn’t able to make Sam the turkey she’d been looking forward to, Sam had replied that Cat didn’t need to wait for Thanksgiving and could make her a turkey any time she felt like it. Oddly enough, it seemed to do the trick. Cat felt relieved, and they called Nona to let her know of their change in plans. Nona had easily shifted direction along with them, agreeing that the buffet at Elderly Acres would be a great place for them to celebrate the holiday together. They’d done it last year, so Sam knew she’d be satisfied.

Jade just nodded at Sam’s explanation of her plans. “She was so excited about cooking everything, but it’s kind of a lot, huh?”

“You know, it definitely is, but I also think she and Nona would be able to handle it under normal circumstances. Cat’s just having a bit of a rough time lately.” Jade’s face twisted slightly in understanding, but Sam didn’t want to really get sidetracked talking about things that were personal to Cat. So she asked, “Is your crazy roommate staying in the dorms this week, too?” Jade had gotten a new roommate after Halloween, and this one appeared to be a stereotypical party girl.

Jade shuddered, “Ugh. No, thank god. But only because I literally chased her out last weekend.”

Sam laughed, “Wait, you did _what_?”

Jade sighed, eyes dropping to her coffee. “God, this was a nightmare. Okay, so, it was Saturday night. Tori and I went to see a movie on campus and then we went for food afterwards. I got home pretty late. My roommate wasn’t there, which was fine with me, so I got ready for bed. But before I even fell asleep, she came back into the room. And she had some guy with her. And she kept saying they had to be quiet but that I would probably sleep through it because I’m a heavy sleeper.”

“Oh, shit,” Sam muttered, realizing where this story was likely going.

“Yeah,” Jade said evenly, “I wasn’t sure what to do at first, because I kept _hoping_ they weren’t about to fuck with me in the room. But it got obvious _really_ quickly that they were. Because they were not quiet or subtle. They were probably kinda drunk, I don’t know, I didn’t really care. So I turned over in bed, which scared the shit out of them both. The dude is probably lucky she didn’t break his dick with the way she reacted. And I told her to get the fuck out of my room and to not come back.” Jade shrugged. “So she did. She moved out fully on Sunday.”

“Holy shit,” Sam chuckled, “So you’ve scared off _three_ roommates.”

“Okay, I didn’t do anything to the first one but exist, the second one I may have prodded at a little, but this last one was all her fault. She’s lucky I let her leave with all her limbs.”

“No arguments there,” Sam smirked, “But you have to admit it’s impressive.”

“What can I say, I’m an impressive woman,” Jade seemed very pleased with herself, but then sobered. “A new girl moved on Monday just before going out of town for the holiday, so I couldn’t really tell you anything about her yet.”

“So a dorm room to yourself for a week, huh?” Sam grinned.

“Trust me, Tori and I are making the most of it,” Jade grinned back.

After they ate, she and Jade met back up with Cat, who Sam noticed seemed a little calmer, if not quite cheerful. After stopping inside Papercuts so that Cat could pick up more of the paper she’d been using to draw doll outfits, they said goodbye to Jade.

“Try not to traumatize this new roommate,” Sam called in lieu of a goodbye. Jade just waved her off and started back toward her dorm.

“Did Jade scare off another one?” Cat guessed once Jade was out of earshot.

Sam laughed and took her hand as they began to walk back toward where her motorcycle was parked. “Boy, did she ever,” she replied gleefully. “This chick totally deserved it, though.” Sam glanced around them surreptitiously, to be sure no one was listening, then said, “Jade’s roommate definitely brought a dude back to the room to have sex when Jade was in there. Like, trying to sleep.”

Cat’s eyes were wide, “They were just going to have sex _in front of her_?” she asked in bewilderment and wonder.

“I mean, they were hoping she’d sleep through it, but she was awake, so she kicked them out.”

“Wow,” Cat commented, “That’s just...that seems really intense.”

“To get kicked out of your dorm room by an angry Jade? Definitely,” Sam agreed. But Cat was just silent in response. “Or did you mean...the live-action porn in your room thing?” Sam ventured.

“Yeah, that,” Cat admitted quietly, “It sounds terrible,” she added quickly.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “Terrible.”

-

Thanksgiving dinner ended up something of a repeat of the year before, Sam and Cat joining Nona at the Thanksgiving buffet at Elderly Acres. Cat was still a little disappointed that she hadn't been up to the task of prepping a turkey and all the sides, knowing it would have made Sam happy, but as she watched her girlfriend load up her plate, she decided the day was going over just fine. And, Cat was already mapping out a full Christmas dinner.

As they ate, Nona asked about their plans for the weekend.

"Well, we're going to Big Buys at midnight to try and catch some doorbuster sales," Cat said, between bites.

"We are?" Sam asked through a mouthful of turkey.

"Yes. Goomer and Dice are meeting us there with Goomer's station wagon. Don't worry, this time I've already mapped out our route through the store, so all you have to do is grab what I tell you." Last year had been a bit of a mess because Cat hadn't been as organized as she'd liked, but with the clarity of her new medication, it had been easy to come up with an effective plan. It also probably helped that she'd typed it out this year on her laptop instead of making a Candy Land style map with real candy that Sam ate half of after last year's Thanksgiving meal.

Sam shrugged and shoveled a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

Conversations happened around them, other family members of Nona's fellow Elderlies were catching up with each other, laughing about memories. Cat took a solemn moment to take in the image of her girlfriend and her grandmother, just wanting to etch the scene in her mind, something real and actual to remember later. But it turned out to be after dinner when something truly memorable happened.

There was music playing all through the meal and, at some point, a few people moved into the open space away from the tables and began dancing. It was a mix of older pop songs that Nona kept humming along to and then brassy jazz music from even way before that, stuff that was probably from before anyone actually at Elderly Acres was even born. But it was soothing and the type of music that reminded Cat of old black and white movies. Sam leaned back in her chair, looking pleased with herself for having tackled the buffet at least three times and Cat gently held her hand, offering a content smile.

"You're gonna try and see if I'll dance with you, huh?" Sam asked.

"Only if you want to."

"Do you want to?"

"Well...Yeah."

"Then I guess I'd better," Sam pushed her chair back and allowed Cat to pull her up to her feet before leading her to an empty spot on the impromptu dance floor. Cat had taken dance classes at Hollywood Arts that included a little bit of ballroom, so she felt like she remembered how to lead. But then Sam positioned herself with one hand on the center of Cat's back and the other gripping her hand in such a way that suggested the opposite. "How's your foxtrot?"

"You...know that one?"

"Yep. You?"

Cat nodded and, within seconds, they were whirling around the dance floor, Sam holding her close, their feet falling in step with the music. She caught Sam's eyes and grinned at her, Sam returning a similar wide smile with a hint of a blush. They moved smoothly until the song ended and there was an announcement about the spread of pies now available at the buffet table. Knowing full well she had no intention of keeping Sam away from pie any longer than necessary, she nodded toward the desserts.

"What are you waiting for?" Cat asked.

Sam responded by kissing the back of Cat's hand before letting go and joining the line that was rapidly forming. Cat waiting back at her seat, lost in a dreamy replay of gliding with Sam to an old jazz standard, commanding her memory to file it away correctly because she'd definitely want to remember this for a very, very long time.

"Which one of these do you like best?" came Sam's voice from the seat next to her. She had four slices of pie laid out in front of her.

Cat surveyed the options of pumpkin, apple, cherry, and pecan. "Oh, cherry!"

"Kinda figured. You really like red desserts," Sam observed, sliding the plate of cherry pie over to Cat.

As Sam dove into her remaining three slices, Cat happily ate the one in front of her, allowing herself to drift back into the memory of dancing, wanting those final details to etch, just right.

The clarity of talking to Dr. Penny and the experience of a good Thanksgiving (especially the joy of discovering Sam _could dance_ and the delight she felt being led around the little impromptu dance floor) had lifted Cat’s mood. And the thrill Black Friday shopping had brought Cat back to what felt like her baseline, once again. She was pleased with what she’d been able to find and how little she’d managed to spend and was energized by the victory, feeling an excitement that fell away to contentedness that made Cat feel like she’d shaken off the slump that she worried was going to ruin her Thanksgiving.

She even managed to make it through Saturday and another missing email from Gio without spiraling. She knew he would contact her when he could. Right now, all she could really do was trust that nothing could be _terribly_ wrong with Gio, or even her parents couldn’t cover that up.

But she wasn’t expecting her PearPhone to start buzzing on Sunday afternoon, the screen lighting up with the word _Mom_ , for the second time that week. Cat was by herself at her sewing machine, since Sam was out with Dice; the fact that people were starting Christmas shopping meant opportunities to offload more of what was being kept in Cat’s storage unit. And since Tori and Jade were visiting Tori’s grandmother that weekend, they’d postponed Funday. Cat had been fine with her solitude until that moment. With a sinking feeling, Cat answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, dear,” Kathy greeted, sounding the same as she always did, “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Cat frowned, “What’s going on?”

Her mother sighed. “It’s just that...I thought our conversation ended rather abruptly last time, and I didn’t like it,” she admitted. “I was surprised and a little ashamed at my assumptions about Sam, but that was my fault. I don’t want you to think you did anything wrong.”

Cat felt a sensation like clouds parting for the sun, but in her chest. “I didn’t think that,” she assured her mother, because she hadn’t. She knew her parents must’ve been surprised. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to hear some honesty directly from her mom, who clearly thought she’d made a mistake.

“Good,” Kathy sounded relieved, “If you want to tell me, I’d like to hear more about Sam.”

It was an opportunity, an invitation to talk about something deeper with her mother, instead of the surface-level conversations they’d been having for years. And it was about _Sam_. Cat thought she could talk about all the things she loved about Sam for the rest of the day. But she took a moment to gather her thoughts. What were the most important things about Sam that she wanted her parents to know? “Sam is wonderful,” she began, “She likes to have fun but she’s also good with money, so she’s responsible too. She’s good at standing up for me so she makes me feel safe. And since we live together we kind of know how to help each other. Like I cook, and she takes out the trash and drives me to therapy.”

“That’s really great,” her mom replied, sounding genuinely happy. “I’m very happy you two have each other. How long has this been going on?”

The real answer was, “About two months,” which was what Cat said. It seemed too complicated to get into everything before that.

“You said she drives you to therapy,” Kathy said tentatively, “So she knows about what’s going on with you?”

Cat frowned at her mother’s phrasing, but answered normally enough. “Of course. She’s who Dice called when...Arizona happened,” Cat didn’t want to talk about _that_ in any more depth, even if her mom was open to more of a conversation today. “She knows what I’m working on and she supports me. Like with memories...something I’m working on right now is old memories of things that never happened.”

Cat was about to explain the effect of her old medicine, but hesitated just slightly, since it had been something her parents had helped her access, and in that moment, her mom spoke. “Oh, yes. Like that time you were convinced the pizza boy tried to break into the house.”

“That’s not--” Cat began, but stopped herself, feeling stymied, unable to assess the memory her mom was referring to. Finally, she just had to move past the moment, to deal with it later. “Yeah, like that,” she conceded hollowly.

Perhaps sensing something in her tone, Kathy replied soothingly, “It’s okay. I know that the things Gio struggles with can feel very real and scary sometimes. But knowing what is and isn’t real is an important part of growing up, and leaving our childish, fantastical imaginations behind.”

Cat felt her face getting hot, but not from shame. It was something she’d heard a lot in her life--pushback from her parents about what was real, because Cat always had liked to imagine things. Fantasy worlds, imaginary friends. It had bothered them more after Gio’s diagnosis, even though what Cat imagined was nothing like what Gio thought was really happening around him. But the moment her mom referred to--it felt _real_. But then, so had the doll. What could Cat even trust anymore? Especially without Gio to ask.

It took some time to register, but Cat realized she was angry.

She was barely present for the rest of the call with her mother, but that was okay. It wasn’t something she wanted to remember, anyway.

-

Sam spent most of the afternoon with Dice, and they’d managed to make some decent money selling odds and ends (and pajelehoochos). It was dinner time when Sam headed home, and the fries she’d picked up while she was out with Dice seemed like hours ago...because they _were_ hours ago. Okay, Sam was hungry, and she assumed that by the time she got home, Cat would have finished dinner or would at least be working on it. It wasn’t that Sam _expected_ dinner necessarily, but Cat had been in a good mood since Thanksgiving. Sam was relieved they seemed to be returning to a sense of normalcy, because not only did that mean cooking, but also, moments like the evening before, in which kissing on the couch led to more of the under the shirt, over the bra touching that they’d been enjoying lately.

She parked her bike on the patio and came in through the sliding glass door, “Cat, I’m home,” she called, sniffing the air expectantly, head turning toward the kitchen, expecting to hear Cat’s reply from there.

The house was quieter than Sam expected, no light clatters and scrapes of cookware, no sizzle of anything cooking. It smelled, well, it smelled like home, like warm sugar, lemon-scented cleaner, and vaguely like fried food. But not like anything fresh cooking. Lingering scents. The house _felt_ cold, even though the temperature was warmer than the outside air that had whipped past Sam on her motorcycle. It felt _empty._

“Cat?” Sam called again, glancing around the front of the apartment. No Cat on the couch, in the dining nook, in the kitchen, and obviously not at the crafting nook right across from the sliding glass door. Sam headed for the bedroom. “Cat?” she said quietly, pushing open the door.

“Here,” was the listless response. And there was Cat, sitting cross-legged on her bed, holding Mr. Purple against her chest. She didn’t even look up as Sam walked in.

Sam _was_ hungry, so her initial reaction was annoyance. Why was Cat just sitting in here? But she’d also felt the strange sense of despair in the house when she’d come in, and she also knew on sight that Cat wasn’t okay, that she wasn’t just sitting back here to deprive Sam of food. She had to stop and take a breath, but then she was able to set aside her need for food and focus on her girlfriend. “Cat. What happened?” She went to sit on the edge of the bed next to her.

Cat was still just staring at the floor in front of her. She shook her head. “My mom called again.”

Sam felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, and her hunger evaporated completely, as if emotion had physically filled her belly. She’d never met Cat’s parents, but she’d seen enough phone calls with them to notice they always seemed to leave Cat drained, and she didn’t like that. It occurred to her that Cat had already talked to her parents this week, and she had a bad feeling that something terrible had happened. “What happened?” she asked again, her voice grim, resigned.

Cat sighed, and her arms tightened around Mr. Purple. Sam wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but she didn’t know if she should. These were the moments she wished she knew how to be in a relationship, but also, how was she supposed to ask Lanelle questions like _when is it okay to touch someone who is obviously upset_? Cat spoke numbly, “I don’t know why I’m even bothering trying to fix my memories. It’s useless. They’re broken. I’m--” she closed her mouth, jaw working, as if chewing words she wasn’t going to let out, so she could swallow them back down.

Sam had to stop herself from repeating the same question a third time, because she was still lost, but she recognized Cat’s hopelessness, her defeat, her self-pity. She reached her arm out, no longer worried about touching her, and slid it around Cat’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Nothing about you is broken,” she said fiercely.

Cat’s shoulders shook slightly as she started to cry, and Sam felt baffled, disappointed, so she wrapped her other arm around the front of Cat and held her closer. After a long moment, Cat took a deep breath. “I wish I believed you.”

“Tell me what your mom said.”

Another deep sigh from Cat, but she relaxed slightly, leaning into Sam. “She called because she wanted to know more about you, and us, so I told her about you, and then we got to talking about the work I was doing for therapy. And she brought up this memory…” Cat trailed off, then shook her head. “I just...I _know_ this memory is real. But she didn’t believe it. She never did. And now I don’t know what to think. She thinks Gio scared me, and made me believe something that wasn’t true. But that’s never happened. I’ve always known the difference between what Gio believes is real and what I do.”

“I believe you,” Sam said immediately. Because she did. But she was also curious. “What was the memory?”

She wondered if it was a mistake to ask, but Cat answered without hesitation. “Back when I was in...junior high, maybe early high school. There was a night this man came to the door and demanded to talk to some girl who didn’t live at my house. We’d ordered pizza and we thought it was the pizza guy, that’s why I answered the door. And he _scared_ Gio. He scared me, too, because he was intense, and he didn’t want to leave. But he really got to Gio. My parents were out of town that night and when we tried to tell them about it the next day, they didn’t believe us.” Cat shook her head. “Gio had already attacked a pizza guy he thought had put a curse on him, so...as soon as my parents heard we ordered pizza, they didn’t believe what had happened. And now, I don’t know if _I_ believe me either.”

Sam frowned. It was a bit of a confusing story, vague yet kind of emotionally evocative. But she hadn’t been there. She couldn’t reassure Cat of anything. And neither could Gio. And neither could Cat’s parents. “I’m sorry,” Sam offered, kissing Cat’s forehead. “Sometimes weird things happen,” she reminded Cat of the conversation they’d had before.

Cat nodded, but she didn’t seem comforted. “Yeah. I know.”

Sam knew this was about memories, but she also thought it was about something beyond that. It was about Cat’s parents specifically not believing her. Sam couldn’t really relate to that--her mom didn’t believe her about a lot of things, but she had never really given her mom a reason to trust her, either, and she’d also never cared if her mom believed her. But she had hated when Cat hadn’t believed her when the British children had set her up, making Cat believe Sam had eaten her bibble. So she could understand the idea of someone you loved not trusting your word. That didn’t mean she knew what to do, other than to hold Cat.

But she couldn’t stop her stomach growling. Cat reached a hand out to pat Sam’s belly affectionately. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” she asked, though she sounded exhausted as she spoke. “I’ll start some dinner.” She made no move to do so.

“No,” Sam replied, “I’m ordering a pizza.” She hoped that wouldn’t be too traumatizing, given the story Cat had just shared. “And I’m going to hold you until you feel better.”

“Might be awhile,” Cat warned.

“I don’t care.” Sam kicked off her boots and threw her jacket in the general direction of her own bed, urging Cat to lie down so she could hold her, though she still needed a free hand to order the pizza, but it was quick business since Sam had them on speed dial. Finally, she set the PearPhone down on the bed and repositioned herself so Cat could press her face against Sam’s neck and Sam could stroke Cat’s hair while occasionally pressing light kisses to her forehead.

After a few minutes, Sam felt something wet against her skin. Cat was crying. “Hey,” she said, softly, not really sure what to follow up with.

Cat sighed through her tears. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being sad,” Sam said.

“I’m just…” another sigh. “You take such good care of me.”

“Yeah, because I love you,” was Sam’s response, which fell so easily from her lips that it took her a moment to process that she hadn’t said their usual phrase of affection. Cat had a grip on a handful of Sam’s sweatshirt and it pulled tighter and she pushed the length of herself even more firmly against Sam. If there had been a way for Cat to climb inside of Sam’s sweatshirt to be closer to her, it seemed like she would have found it. They stayed like that for a little while longer, but Sam felt like Cat needed something to distract her. “Hey, did I ever tell you about the one and only time I got an A in science class?”

Cat shook her head. “No,” was the muffled reply against her shoulder.

“Hold on,” Sam said, untangling herself from her girlfriend. “Just need to get something.”

-

As Sam climbed over her to find whatever it was she was looking for, Cat curled herself up even tighter, already missing the warmth of Sam’s body. But there was something radiating from within that both helped counter the absence of her yet also managed to make it almost unbearable.

Sam _loved_ her. Cat knew that. She’d known that. They’d been confirming that to each other, back and forth, in their silly way for weeks. But to hear it framed that way: I love you. If Cat hadn't already been bogged down with sadness, the sentiment might have left her jumping on the bed. Instead, she was curled up, waiting for Sam to return, which she did after only a couple moments.

"Okay. This is something you kinda have to watch..." Sam said from the middle of the room. Cat turned over, still lying down, but propping herself up on the pillow enough to get a good look at what Sam was up to. "Behold," she said. "The humble orange." Sam tossed the fruit back and forth from hand to hand. "You might think this is just a regular fruit...a snack, maybe. But, no. This is the perfect, biodegradable, efficient product." Now Cat sat up just a bit. Sam was such a good sales person. No wonder she'd gotten a job at the Pear Store, twice. "Let's say you're thirsty..." Suddenly, she jammed her thumb into the orange, making a hole in it. Then she held it up and squeezed the juice into her mouth. Cat giggled. It was ridiculous and messy, but it was fun to watch. "But then, you decide you're hungry." Now, Sam tore the orange into pieces and took a big bite out of the middle. Cat was sitting up now, captivated. There was orange juice dripping everywhere, but at least Sam was on her side of the room that didn't have any carpeting. "And finally, it's Earth-friendly, completely compostable." Sam pushed open the window and tossed the orange outside.

Cat couldn't help herself, she was up on her feet and flinging herself at Sam before she'd even barely turned back around. The impact of Cat's body colliding with Sam's pushed a small "oof" out of both of them. But then Cat was reaching for Sam's face, not caring that everything was sticky from the demonstration. She kissed Sam, tasting the bright flavor of citrus on her mouth, kisses that tasted like sunshine.

"I love you, too," Cat said, squeezing herself tightly around Sam.

When the pizza arrived, Sam handled everything and they ate dinner in Sam’s bed while watching several episodes of _Kitten Rescuers_. Cat still felt incredibly sad about so many things going on around her. But she knew she was loved and protected. Sam made sure of that.

-

Cat’s despondence lingered over the next couple of days. Sam thought it might be the saddest she’d ever seen Cat. She couldn’t even put on a brave face for the babysitting gig they’d had booked for Tuesday, so Sam had handled the kid herself. Luckily, she was an energetic girl who liked going to the park, so Sam took her out of the apartment for most of the afternoon.

But Cat basically stayed in her bedroom, with her stuffed animals, whenever Sam wasn’t available to be with her (which was kind of a lot, since Sam had to take on feeding them both and cleaning up the house, on top of the babysitting gig and checking their website to see if any of the outfits sold). Cat had even mentioned she wished she hadn’t adopted out so many animals, which broke Sam’s heart. She urged Cat to call Dr. Penny, but Cat just insisted she’d talk to her on Wednesday. There wasn’t much more Sam could do except try to look after her, urging her to eat and drink, turning on the shower for her to entice her in there, finding reruns of _That’s a Drag!_ to try to make her laugh. It all worked, sort of. The hardest part was not being able to sleep in the same bed because of Sam’s nighttime flailing (which she couldn’t help and that made her feel bad because it kept her from being able to be right there for Cat in the night).

On Wednesday, Sam dropped Cat off at her appointment with Dr. Penny, really hopeful that the session would do Cat some good, as it seemed to last week. But when she met up with Jade and they headed for Donut Street, Sam realized pretty quickly that all she could really think about was Cat. Cat was Jade’s friend first, but she and Jade certainly had their own independent friendship. Still, Sam wasn’t sure where all the boundaries were when it came to talking about what was going on with her girlfriend.

But Jade definitely noticed that Sam was preoccupied. “Okay, what’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?” Sam’s answer was automatic, because of course something was going on with her.

“You didn’t even sound excited when you ordered your sandwich. Also, you got it on a plain glazed donut.” Jade shrugged, “It’s certainly a classic, but coming from you, that just means you aren’t very hungry, which means something’s wrong.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug and directed the full impact of intense blue eyes--a lighter, greener shade than Sam’s own--onto Sam. “Talk to me,” Jade all but demanded.

Sam dropped her eyes. “It’s about Cat.”

“Does it have to do with why Tori and I haven’t heard from her in a few days?” Jade asked, “Sure, we don’t talk _every_ day, but we both tried to reach out about maybe doing something fun during the week since we missed Funday and she never really replied.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, not really aware that Jade and Tori had been texting Cat. Like Jade had said, they didn’t always talk every day. They were busy college students, and the semester was ending soon. “I guess she talked with her mom, and...you know she’s been dealing with stuff about her memories. Her mom brought up something that Cat was sure was real, but her mom didn’t believe her, and it really messed her up.”

Jade nodded grimly, then spoke hesitantly, “Her mom means well, but…” then shook her head. “Did she say what it was she was trying to remember?”

Sam tried to remember how Cat worded it. “It was something about a guy who came to the house and was being intense and threatening and they thought he was the pizza guy, but he wasn’t. And then her mom didn’t believe her or her brother because her brother had already had a bad experience with the pizza guy.”

Jade sat up straight. “Wait. I was there that night.”

Sam mirrored her on the other side of the booth. “You were?”

Jade nodded slowly, brow furrowed. “Yeah. It has to be the same night. I want to say we were like, fourteen or fifteen? Or, well, Cat might’ve still been thirteen, if I was fourteen…” She seemed to think about it for a moment, but apparently decided getting their ages exactly right wasn’t that necessary, because she shook her head and moved on. “Anyway, yeah, I was staying over at her house, because my parents were the worst and hers weren’t home. Or maybe they were coming home really late, I can’t remember, but either way, Gio was in charge. He was old enough, and stable enough at the time, that it made sense.” She glanced at Sam, “Gio had a couple of really good periods, early on, when his meds worked, and the side effects weren’t bad, when he had some clarity. But he’s had a tough road for the past several years.”

Sam nodded. She didn’t know Cat’s brother, of course, but she’d heard her talk about him enough to know he was more than his illness. And really, wasn’t everybody?

“So we were hanging out in the living room because Cat had ordered pizza and we were waiting for it to get there. And then...that’s right, the doorbell rang and Cat went to get it because we all assumed it was the pizza guy. But it wasn’t. It was this guy who was probably a little older than Gio, like, maybe about our age now.” She gestured between them. “And he was demanding to talk to Stephanie, or some name like that. Well, no one named Stephanie lives at Cat’s house, and she keeps trying to tell him that, but he’s not listening, he’s screaming that he knows she’s in there, that she needs to come talk to him. Cat panics and slams the door in his face. Gio is white as a sheet and starts mumbling about hexes and people coming to get him.”

Sam noticed that Jade’s narration had changed, as if she was reliving it, watching it play out right in front of her. That gave her a clue to the emotional intensity of the night. She was so focused on the retelling that she nearly knocked the plate out of the waitress’s hand when she moved to place it next to Sam’s elbow on the table. Jade, too, seemed to snap out of her reverie when the food arrived, but she had the presence of mind to request more coffee.

Once their coffees were refilled and they’d each at least had a bite of their donut breakfast sandwich (which, Sam was kind of feeling hungry now), Jade continued talking. “Okay, so...the guy was like, vehemently demanding to talk to Stephanie, freaking out both the Valentines, so when he kept pounding on the door and ringing the bell, I finally had to get up and tell him to get the hell out of there or he’d regret it. Luckily, he listened to me, I don’t even really remember what I said. But Cat and Gio were still shaken. When the pizza came, I had to answer the door.”

“Damn. Glad you were there,” Sam commented.

“Me, too,” Jade said sincerely, “I don’t think that idiot guy would’ve actually _hurt_ anybody, but...with how scared Gio was, I’m not convinced things couldn’t have escalated. He’s not really a violent guy, but when people freak out enough, sometimes they snap. He’s gotten into his share of fights exactly because of this.”

“Then what happened?” Sam asked.

Jade shrugged, “Nothing much else stands out. I think the three of us hung out for most of the rest of the night and eventually calmed down. And then I left the next morning.”

“So you didn’t talk to Cat’s parents about it?”

Jade shook her head, “Not that I remember.”

Sam gave her a very serious look, “You have to tell Cat what you remember.”

But Jade just nodded her agreement. “Yeah. I do.”

They were able to finish the rest of their meal with Sam in a better mood, and could veer off into other topics; Jade had some end of semester stresses she needed to get off her chest (final projects to talk through in vague terms so Sam’s mind didn’t wander, minor roommate irritations, missing Tori since they were both busier than usual). By the time they were finished eating and Cat had texted that she was finished with Dr. Penny, Sam thought they both seemed to be feeling a lot better after having the chance to talk to each other.

They left the breakfast spot and turned down the side street, making their way to Papercuts to meet Cat. They could see her in the distance, her vivid red hair unmistakable, as she looked in the window of the shop while she waited for them. When they got close enough, Sam could see that she already looked like she was feeling a little better after her appointment. Her makeup was a little smudged, like she’d probably been crying, but her smile looked almost as bright as it usually did when she saw the two of them.

“Hi,” Cat greeted each of them with a hug when they got close enough.

“Hey, babe,” Sam replied, “So, Jade wants to tell you something.”

Jade glanced at Sam, as if checking that she was still going to tell Cat this, and then faced Cat, scrutinizing her carefully, while Cat looked back, waiting patiently. Finally, Jade said, “That thing your mom didn’t believe you about? With the guy who showed up demanding to talk to someone who wasn’t there and we all thought it was the pizza guy at first?” Cat nodded, eyes wide. “It definitely happened,” Jade said firmly, “I was there.”

Cat’s expression cleared for a moment, a revelatory moment. “You _were_!” she agreed excitedly, then shook her head, “I didn’t even...I was stuck on the part of the memory where Gio and I were trying to explain it to my mom and I...I didn’t even _remember_!”

Jade nodded, her face still serious, “Yeah. Your mom’s wrong. It happened and it was pretty intense.”

“It was,” Cat agreed, then flung herself at Jade to hug her again. “ _Thank you_ , Jade! I’m…” she sighed. “I’m glad you were there.”

Sam felt profoundly relieved at the shift in Cat’s mood. They headed back home together shortly afterwards, where Cat’s mood already seemed a little brighter as she assessed the food they had in the kitchen and considered what she might make for dinner.

But Sam could also tell that she wasn’t entirely back to her old self. Which made sense; she had been _so_ depressed for several days, there was bound to be a recovery period. But Sam wanted to check in. “You feeling okay?” She took a seat at the kitchen island.

Cat nodded, but something in her expression still seemed a little resigned. “I’m okay,” she stated, closing the fridge. “Hearing that Jade was there helped me remember it better, and knowing I’m right really helped. But, I guess…” she trailed off. Sam braced herself, feeling certain that the other shoe was about to drop. “As much as I appreciate the help from the two of you, I don’t want you to feel like you have to play detective when I’m working on something.”

Sam frowned, “What are you talking about? There’s no Detective Puckett here.”

Her instinct had been to deflect with humor a little, and it did make Cat grin slightly. “Too bad. Detective Puckle would look great in a trench coat.” But she sobered quickly, before Sam could do much more than groan at the incorrect last name. It was something Sam had noticed, gradually, that on different medication, Cat was more able to stay on topic and not get distracted by tangents. “But I meant the part where you asked Jade about it. I love that you two are friends, but--”

Unable to hold back, because it felt so important, Sam interrupted. “I didn’t ask Jade about it. Jade asked me.”

Cat’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What?” Her voice had dropped significantly, an expression of her genuine, serious bafflement.

“How would I even know to ask Jade? You didn’t remember she was there,” Sam countered.

“Oh yeah!” Cat giggled softly before asking, “But then, how did you end up talking about it?”

“Jade could tell I wasn’t really myself and asked why. Well, kind of demanded to know. She wondered what the memory was that had upset you, so I told her what I remembered. She’s the one who put it together that she was there.”

“Oh,” Cat seemed to think about it. “I’d never want to try to tell you what to talk about with Jade. I know you’re friends. I just...didn’t want you to feel like you always have to fix things for me.”

Sam nodded. “I get that,” she replied. “We only talked about it because it was affecting me, too. Like, it’s not like I want to go blabbing about all your--.” She wanted to say problems, because she was used to talking about things like this with someone like her mother. But she caught herself in the moment and amended, “Everything you’re dealing with.”

“I know,” Cat replied. “But as for that...in talking to Dr. Penny, I decided to just...trust my own memories, as far as I can. Because so far, most of them have been _right_ , and the ones that aren’t don’t hurt anybody.” Her expression was serious as she looked at Sam. “This is the sort of thing I want to work on by myself. If I want to know if something I remember is right, I’ll ask someone who was there about it.”

Sam nodded acceptance, though she wondered what she was supposed to do if she was ever put in a position like at the Halloween party. She didn’t want the past to be totally off-limits. It took her a second to consider how to ask that. “What do I do if you say something that...isn’t quite right? Like, in front of me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you want to work on this stuff by yourself, and ask people questions. I get that. But what if something like the Halloween party happens again? But, like, not when we’re with our friends?”

Cat looked pensive as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “Maybe we need an actual code. We never really came up with one for even if we’re with other people.”

“What do you think would help?”

“I think that,” Cat began, “Well, it’s funny. But when Jade mentioned she was there, the memory just...hit me with such force, at all once. And I already knew it was real, but it _felt_ even more real. And I started to realize how different it felt than the memory of the doll on Halloween. I know memory is funny. Dr. Penny says it’s really normal to have dreams and things that feel really real when we look back on them after time has passed. But something about the memory of Jade being there was so familiar...I don’t know what I’m trying to say, really.”

“Do you mean,” Sam suggested slowly, sliding off of the stool, “That your real memories...feel different?”

“Something like that,” Cat agreed, “I guess when I say something that isn’t quite...right, that maybe I just need to think about it a little more. And then I might be able to tell.”

“What if the code is something like...me asking you to tell me a little more about what you remember? So I’m not challenging you or anything, just...asking.” She’d circled around to join Cat on the other side of the counter, not liking the amount of space between them as they talked.

“I like that,” Cat agreed. “Yeah. I like that. Then even if we’re with our friends, if I start to realize it’s not right, I can just claim it’s boring and we can push the conversation somewhere else.”

“Okay,” Sam smiled, “We’re like a team of spies. Undercover.”

Cat giggled, but she looked a little more serious again, “I’m really glad Jade was able to make me feel better. But I also don’t want to involve our friends, as much as possible.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “We’re Team Puckett-Valentine over here. We’re the spy-detectives who investigate memories. But you’re the brains behind this operation,” she tapped Cat’s forehead, which made Cat smile broadly, “And I’m the brawn. So you just tell me what you need, and I’ll help you. Always.”

Cat flung herself at Sam, burying her face in her neck. “I love you,” she sighed. It still felt so new, the way they’d just started saying it, even though it amounted to the same thing. The words hit harder, were more impactful. Sam felt a rush of heat and energy just hearing them.

Saying them felt even better. “I love you, too.”

-

Hearing that Jade’s recollection of the night in question matched her own _had_ made Cat feel a lot better. It was still a bit difficult to consider the fact that her parents didn’t believe her, and she was still a bit worried about Gio, so she didn’t feel completely like herself again. But she was feeling better. The next couple of days felt like she was climbing slowly out of a hole, where the sides were mud that threatened to let her slip back down. But Cat was determined to move forward and past this low.

She’d received an email from Gio that Friday, a day early, which really helped.

**SUBJECT: [Message from Giovanni Valentine]**

**Hey, Cat! ^^ Sorry it’s been a while. Mom said you were worried. Kinda embarrassing, but I freaked out a little bit a couple weeks ago and got my email privileges revoked. I wasn’t really in a good place for a bit, anyway. But I’m doing better now, and I can write to you again! So here I am writing to you, writing about writing to you. Weird, huh?**

**How was Thanksgiving? Did Nona make her famous stuffing? I miss the way we used to do Thanksgiving as kids. Thanksgiving here with Mom and Dad was okay, but the food isn’t the best and it’s so short. I wish I hadn’t gotten freaked out so I could’ve gone to their house for dinner, but oh well. Can only move forward, I guess.**

**They’re letting me paint again, too. I have this cool one going that’s like a forest scene, but if you look closely, the deer has swords for antlers. So anyway, I’m having fun with it. I hope you’re doing okay with your therapy and stuff. The memories homework you mentioned sounds hard, but worth it.**

**Tell Sam I said hey hi hello!**

**Love,**

**GIO**

It at least gave her some perspective. Gio was ultimately fine, nothing major had happened. She could understand her parents not disclosing something minor like that, as frustrating as it had been at the time. She didn’t like it, but she could rationalize their obscuring. And knowing Gio was doing better and was excited about his art again made her really happy. It was almost like Cat could feel a fog lifting, like she was pulling herself up out of the top of the hole she’d been struggling out of. She felt relieved, like she was coming back into the world, back into herself, back with Sam.

And by the next day, Cat felt like herself again. And feeling like herself again meant seeing Sam with new eyes. Well, partially new eyes. She would always see Sam as a source of comfort, of protection, of a seemingly antithetical tenderness that Sam so easily delivered despite all of her apparent abrasive ruggedness. But the lift in her mood brought with it a desire to be close to Sam for _other_ reasons. As if her libido was a furnace that had been running on a few glowing embers for a week or so and now had been stoked back into a blazing heat.

They snuggled on the couch together that night, watching a movie, and Cat was probably only keeping her hands to herself because she was enjoying said movie. It was getting late, but when the credits began rolling, Cat wasn’t tired. She’d been tucked up against Sam for the better part of two hours, and the furnace in her breast was steady, hot, hungry.

She sat up straighter. Sam’s arm was still around her, and she turned to look at Cat with a warm, comfortable smile, eyes roving over Cat’s face, looking content and relaxed in the moment.

And that was when Cat kissed her.

Sam grunted in surprise as the contact, but it soon turned into an appreciative hum. Cat loved how easily she could read Sam sometimes, just by the small sounds she made, or the way her hands moved (the one around her shoulders tightened slightly, Sam’s other hand slid slowly over Cat’s stomach). Or by the way she kissed back, which had started out soft, gentle, but quickly grew bolder, as Sam’s tongue met her own. Cat heard the yearning whimper in Sam’s throat, and she felt eager and wild and like her furnace was searing and she needed to be closer.

In a swift motion, Cat swung her leg over Sam’s, straddling her on the sofa.

She’d had to break the kiss to make her move, and now she was staring down at her girlfriend, who seemed frozen, staring back up at her with dark blue eyes, her alluring lips parted slightly. But then her eyes shifted slowly down from Cat’s face until they settled naturally on her chest, right at Sam’s eye level. Again, she seemed not to know what to do, until she slowly leaned forward to rest her forehead against Cat’s chest.

Cat’s arms had been balancing on the back of the couch, and now she rested a hand on the back of Sam’s head, fingers slipping through smooth blonde hair. But Sam still hadn’t moved, her head stayed still, even her arms stayed motionless, resting on the couch next to Cat’s lower legs.

“You okay?” Cat asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Sam sounded breathless, her throat sounded dry. “Just...trying to be good,” she confessed.

“You don’t have to be _that_ good,” Cat purred encouragingly.

At this, Sam stirred slightly, and Cat felt as she began to gently nuzzle the breasts on either side of her face. Her movements were still tentative, slow, and Cat could feel the soft attention being lavished on her breasts, through the layer of her sweatshirt and bra. She took a slow breath, both hands on Sam’s head now, running her fingers through her hair and along her scalp.

Cat’s breath came out in a soft sigh as she felt Sam’s hands both settle on her stomach, just above her hip bone, and slide up until they were each cupping a breast, on either side of Sam’s face. Sam stilled, as if waiting to see if she would be redirected or reprimanded, but Cat just braced one hand against the back of the couch again to lean into Sam encouragingly.

Sam redoubled her attention, nuzzling more fervently now, hands grasping wantonly. Cat could hear her breaths coming harder, a hint of throaty harshness on the exhale, like Sam was almost groaning. Cat realized she was holding her breath, and let out another sigh, tipping her head down to brush her lips against the top of Sam’s head, one hand still trailing fingers through her hair.

Cat shifted slightly, bringing the hand on the couch down to grasp at Sam’s back, needing to feel closer, more connected. Sam moved, maybe trying to compensate for Cat’s change in balance, her hands now on Cat’s back, on her shoulder blades, keeping her close. She lifted her head, gazing up at Cat, and Cat could see and feel the way her lips pressed softly against Cat’s sternum.

They both moved together, and Cat found herself pushing Sam against the back of the couch as their lips connected in a scorching kiss. Cat felt Sam’s hands running down her back, stopping just at her hips. Cat kept trying to push herself closer, but it was impossible, so she let one hand slip down from the back of the couch to grope at the hem of Sam’s hoodie, then her shirt, and she heard the intake of breath from Sam as Cat’s hand found skin.

She wasted no time sliding her hand up Sam’s torso, feeling the way Sam arched subtly into her, until her fingertips grazed the fabric of Sam’s bra. She focused on their kisses for a moment, letting herself enjoy the position, the feeling of Sam beneath her and against her, assessing how she felt (hot, dizzy with desire, enthralled with every new discovery). Cat wasn’t ready to escalate, at least not beyond where they had already gone, with Sam nuzzling her breasts through her clothes. But she was certainly open to more contact within the parameters they were working with.

She let her hand slide over Sam’s breast, fingers brushing past her nipple, making Sam grunt softly against her mouth. And as she continued to explore beneath Sam’s shirt, she felt Sam’s hands moving from Cat’s lower back to her stomach, cool fingers dipping beneath the hem of the sweatshirt to meet the hot skin of Cat’s stomach, making her gasp.

Sam stilled, perhaps thinking she’d done something wrong, and pulled back from their kiss to look at Cat. But Cat straightened, hands moving back to the back of the couch as she leaned invitingly into Sam, giving her easy access.

There was still a deliberate devotion in Sam’s actions. She took her time letting her hands wander up the skin of Cat’s torso, and she let her gaze feast on the sweatshirt-clad breasts in her eyeline before making another move. But as soon as Cat felt Sam’s palms carefully cover and caress her breasts through her bra, Sam’s face was back on her chest, her actions less steady as her excitement grew. Cat held on, one arm wrapped around Sam’s upper back, one hand in her hair, feeling the worshipful attention being lavished on her body. A strangled moan fell from Cat’s lips, high-pitched with need, as she felt sensation flood her, felt Sam’s lips press and nip and her nose trace shapes through layers of fabric, her hands cupping each breast, thumbs running along her curves, bringing the supple flesh closer to her face.

Elation sang in her blood, in her limbs, making Cat feel like _she_ could sing. Her hips rolled unconsciously, succeeding only in pushing Sam back against the couch a little more. She looked up at Cat with eyes too fiery to be so blue, and their lips connected again as Sam’s hands continued their delicate movements beneath her sweatshirt. Cat had to stop herself from rolling her hips again, seeking contact with any part of Sam, and that’s when she knew they should probably slow down, as much as it crushed her to quell the roaring fire in her ribs.

She slowed her kisses gradually, and Sam seemed to catch on, as one hand slipped around her body to settle on her lower back, decreasing the intensity of their contact. After awhile, they’d pulled apart enough that they were just nuzzling each other, noses bumping affectionately, foreheads pressing together. Sam slid both hands out of Cat’s sweatshirt and wrapped her arms around her, as if she wasn’t quite ready to let go. She let out a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh and pressed one more lingering kiss to Cat’s lips.

“I guess I should get ready for bed,” Cat murmured reluctantly, moving in to steal yet another kiss, communicating that she _really_ didn’t actually want to stop.

-

“Yeah, okay,” Sam managed. It was difficult to speak with the way her pulse pounded in her skull, her chest felt full and warm and innervated, arousal swirling all through every part of her.

“You’re going to be up for a little while, yeah?” Cat asked. She was still straddling Sam’s lap, her arms still on either side of her head, balancing against Sam’s shoulders and the back of the couch. And she was looking down at Sam with warm, dark eyes, in a way that made Sam think, for a wild moment, that she would literally do anything for her.

It took a moment to even process that she had been asked a question, and another to even figure out how to answer, and another yet to remember that tonight she was supposed to talk to Carly. On top of missing last week because of the holiday, they’d shifted the call this week because apparently the night before, Carly and Amandine had spent the night together, so getting up at her regular early time to talk to a friend on the other side of the world wasn’t really on Carly’s agenda for her Saturday morning. Finally, Sam said, “Yeah, I’ll be up for a bit.”

“Okay,” Cat nodded, then surged forward one more time to press a kiss to Sam’s lips that left her utterly breathless. “Goodnight, Sam,” she said softly, climbing delicately off of Sam’s lap with a little giggle at herself before hurrying off to the bedroom.

Sam couldn’t move for a long moment, and just sat on the couch, motionless and breathless and feeling like, if she closed her eyes, she might still feel the warmth of Cat against her body, the captivating way she pressed closer to Sam, the bold way she slipped her hand beneath Sam’s shirt…

Sam glanced behind her, ensuring she was alone, and checked her PearPhone. Her call with Carly wasn’t for another fifteen minutes or so. Maybe that was enough time to take care of things, while the buzz of arousal was still coursing through her, impossible to ignore.

She grabbed her laptop and flipped it open, but she’d barely opened her private browsing window and began typing the name of her preferred porn site when she hesitated. Choosing a video could be a _pain_ sometimes, like if she ended up watching one and then discovering that the actresses sounded too fake or something. She could probably just pull up one of her reliable favorites with the right search terms, but it occurred to her that she probably didn’t even need to. The way she could almost still feel Cat on her lap when she closed her eyes might be enough.

Sam set her computer aside, still open in case she changed her mind, and, glancing over her shoulder once again, she settled on the couch and unfastened her jeans, and slipped her hand into her pants.

Her heart thrummed and excitement coursed through her, not just because of how much she needed to touch herself, but because of where she was, because she was sure Cat wasn’t asleep yet. Ever since Cat had interrupted her that one time, even though they had talked about it and Cat had ensured that Sam would have privacy, she still felt like she was getting away with something when she masturbated in the living room. There was a thrilling sense of possibility that she might be interrupted at any moment, and if Sam were honest, the notion of Cat interrupting her _now_ brought to mind all sorts of dangerous possibilities.

But for now, she focused on how she had felt only moments before, with Cat straddling her hips, leaning into her, encouraging her to pay attention to her breasts. Even though Cat hadn’t had quite the same access to Sam’s body, Sam hadn’t felt like she was missing anything in the encounter. Instead, she was alight with joy at the prospect of being allowed to explore more of Cat.

And now, as her fingers moved delicately, she could fantasize about escalation. About Cat’s shirt being off and across the room, about her bra just being gone, about what it would be like to press her mouth all over the bare skin of Cat’s torso, what it would be like to taste her skin, to wrap her lips around a nipple, to let her hand slip between Cat’s legs, giving her something to rock against. To the sounds she’d make, like the quiet whimpers Sam had drawn out of her, but louder, high-pitched but throaty moans that would let Sam know she was close, because _Sam_ was starting to get close, and--

A chime split the air just next to her, the recognizable cheerful tones of the incoming call from Carly. _Carly_. For a jumbled moment, Sam’s mind interpreted the sounds of Carly’s incoming call as if it was Carly _herself_ on the couch next to Sam, still deep in her fantasy of getting Cat off on her lap, and the thought collided in a confusing mishmash of images, Carly watching her, and Sam jerked her hand out of her pants, everything between her legs throbbing with need, and fumbled the answer the call.

-

Carly’s Sunday morning wasn’t much different than a Saturday, except for this weekend, that was. She figured it wasn’t going to impact her chat with Sam that much, just shifting things a day, and when she got up at her normal time and came out to start her coffee, she turned on her computer and saw that Sam was already online, waiting for her.

It was early, but what the hell. Her coffee was just about ready, and she was excited to talk to her best friend, both because they’d had to wait an extra day on top of the extra week since they’d missed Thanksgiving weekend and because she definitely had exciting things to dish about when it came to Amandine.

She pressed the call button, and listened as it rang a few times, and then heard when Sam answered. There were the sounds of motion, shuffling. Carly squinted at her screen, trying to figure out what she was even looking at.

“Uh, hold on,” she heard Sam’s voice, sounding a bit tense, maybe slightly breathless with exertion.

“Uh, okay,” Carly agreed. She thought maybe she was mostly looking at the back of Sam’s couch. It looked like that shade of blue. And maybe the ceiling. She could see shadows moving and hear footsteps as Sam, presumably, moved around the space. She heard distant water running. “What are you even doing?” she asked, though she didn’t expect that Sam could hear her.

The sounds of water stopped, and then Carly could hear Sam come back, and moments later, the view from the camera shifted wildly until it focused on Sam. “Sorry,” Sam mumbled, “I had to wash my hands.”

“You...had to wash your hands,” Carly repeated incredulously, “Why?”

“I was eating,” Sam replied evasively.

“Right,” Carly nodded, speaking with heavy skepticism, “Because you’ve always been _so cautious_ about not getting pizza grease on your keyboard.”

Sam groaned and covered her face with one hand, “Okay, fine, I wasn’t eating, but can we please change the subject?”

It dawned on Carly abruptly what she might have interrupted, as she took in Sam’s blush, the way she’d answered the call, her reluctance to talk about it. “Oh my god,” Carly uttered, “Were you _masturbating_?”

“If I say yes, can we talk about _anything_ else?” Sam pleaded.

“Sure,” Carly nodded, assessing Sam for a moment, then blurted out, “I had sex with Amandine,” in a rush.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, her voice still weak, her hand still covered the lower half of her face.

“Yeah,” Carly nodded. Things had been escalating for a while, with them both pushing the limits of what they could get away with in public or at Amandine’s apartment during the day with her roommates around (and she’d gleefully updated Sam about a lot of this during previous weeks). But the night before, they’d stayed at Carly’s together, both very aware of what was likely to happen. And happen it did. “It was...really, _really_ good,” she gushed, gaze shifting away from Sam as she let herself reminiscence on little details: pushing Amandine up against the door to her apartment once they were inside, Amandine’s hand slipping down the front of her pants, their clothes disappearing on the way to the bedroom, Amandine on her back on Carly’s bed, in the throes of orgasm. She shook her head slightly, “She _really_ knows what she’s doing,” she confessed, “She does this thing with her fingers that’s like--”

Carly stopped talking, because Sam was blushing even brighter, and from the way the screen swayed slightly, shifting in her seat. “Like what?” Sam asked, though she sounded reluctant.

“I’m sorry, do you want me to leave you alone?” Carly asked, smirking a little to take the sting out of her question.

“No,” Sam sighed heavily, “Sorry, I just...Cat left me pretty worked up. She was like, on top of me, and it was getting pretty heated. I mean, not quite like what you got up to, but…” she trailed off. “I want to talk to you, just, maybe not about the sex you’re having that I’m not. Not like, as a blanket rule. Just right now.”

Carly nodded sympathetically. “Right, okay.” Of course, spilling all the details about Amandine was part of what she was excited to talk to Sam about, but...she could adjust. If their girlfriends were probably off-limits… “How was your Thanksgiving?” she asked.

“Good,” Sam replied, and immediately, seemed to perk up. “Oh, that reminds me.” The background behind Sam began to spin as Sam apparently carried her computer into the kitchen. Carly found herself with a clear view of Sam at the kitchen counter, a big tupperware container and a plate in front of her, assembling a sandwich. “Thanksgiving leftovers sandwich,” she explained, “Because at least I can _eat_ on a call with you.”

“I keep saying I can let you go,” Carly teased as Sam waved her off. “Wait, _how_ do you still have leftovers? Are those even safe?”

“Froze some of them,” Sam explained, “Cat has a whole little system for how much time I’m allowed to take eating the leftovers once they’re in the fridge.”

“So did Cat cook Thanksgiving?”

“Nah, we spent it at Elderly Acres with Nona,” Sam explained. “I just took some of the leftovers off of the cafeteria workers’ hands. Okay, it was kind of a lot of leftovers, but they didn’t take much convincing.”

“Convincing, or threatening?”

“Maybe a little of both.” Carly couldn’t quite see what was happening, but there were definitely big slabs of turkey on the sandwich. “What about you?”

“Dad was home for the weekend. We had a big meal together, but not really with the traditional foods. Still really good, and I’m glad I got to see him.”

“And probably glad he didn’t stay another week, considering your Friday night,” Sam smirked.

“You’ve got that right,” Carly laughed, then subsided, scrutinizing Sam. Sam had brought the topic back up again, and she seemed calmer now that she was making a sandwich, but Carly wanted to respect her request from earlier, too.

Sam eyed her as she spread what looked like cranberry sauce on a roll. “Okay, you can tell me about Amandine,” she invited, “Just...try not to make it _too_ sexy.”

“Oh, sure,” Carly returned dryly, “The sex I had with my French lover in Florence...yeah, _that_ should be easy to tone down.” Sam rolled her eyes, but Carly just laughed. “Okay, just tell me if anything turns you on too much,” she joked.

Sam flushed, slightly, and just said, “Whatever, spill.”

Carly kind of liked how it felt to tease Sam like this, the way just her words could have such an effect, even if it was ultimately a reaction to Cat. But she had mercy on her as she described the details of her night with Amandine. It was more detail than she’d given about the sex she’d had with Matteo, but she kept certain things to herself: like the way Amandine’s fingers moved so fast they almost felt like a vibrator, how it felt to finally touch her, without the layers of clothing in the way, the intensity she felt when she let go in Amandine’s arms. Everything was still so new, Carly felt like she was buzzing with the aftereffects, and sometimes she still felt like she could feel Amandine’s hands on her, and shivered deliciously.

Sam listened attentively, taking her computer and her sandwich back to the couch, polishing it off in the time it took Carly to gloss over the details of her night with Amandine. Her eyes were a little glazed when Carly finished and she blinked, setting aside her plate. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Carly laughed. “That about sums it up.” She tilted her head to the side, “You want to tell me what you and Cat have been up to?” she invited, just to even the scale.

Sam shrugged, “I kind of already told you. Like, groping and kissing and Cat climbing on top of me and...yeah.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Carly said cautiously, “But how are you two _not_ having sex?”

“Cat’s not ready,” Sam said simply, though her brow furrowed, as if she wondered whether that was the case. Carly just nodded, and let Sam ruminate for a moment. By the time Sam’s eyes reconnected with hers, she asked, “Know what you’re doing for Christmas yet?”

“Just gonna spend it with my dad,” Carly looked away so Sam couldn’t read her expression.

“Too bad,” Sam sighed. “Not like I _want_ to go visit my mom, but you know. I would’ve if you were going to be in Seattle.”

“You should spend Christmas with Cat,” Carly encouraged.

Sam’s smile blossomed at this, “Yeah,” she said softly, “That does sound kinda perfect.”

-

When she hung up with Carly, Sam had wound down a little bit. Eating a sandwich had helped; hearing Carly’s story about sex with her girlfriend had not, but Sam was happy for her, and couldn’t help but imagine what things would be like when she and Cat got there.

What Carly had asked her about why they hadn’t had sex yet stuck with her, a little. It wasn’t as though they were on anyone’s timeline but their own, but after two months with almost nothing but time together, Sam did wonder if maybe Cat wanted more, and was waiting for her to guide them there.

They should probably talk about it.

In the meantime, Sam was still wired on some erotic tension that needed release. She picked up her computer again, figuring she could maybe use some assistance since some of the heat of her earlier encounter had faded while she talked to Carly. She thought back to it anyway, the closeness of Cat, the warmth of her body, the graceful and confident way she placed herself astride Sam’s lap and the way she’d laughed at the slightly clumsy way she’d slid off.

But as Sam unbuttoned her jeans for the second time that night, it occurred to her that Cat going to bed just after their encounter, and verifying that Sam was going to be out front for a while longer, meant that Cat had likely done in her bed _exactly_ what Sam was doing right now.

After that realization, Sam didn’t need a pornographic assist to reach orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Rainbow_ by Kesha.  
>  **Next time on Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay):**
> 
> It was early in the afternoon on Tuesday when Cat got a message on Spectrogram from a name she didn’t know but nonetheless recognized.
> 
>  **GoodShaySunshine:** Hey, it’s Carly. I found your account from those Halloween pictures you and Sam were both tagged in, I hope that’s okay!
> 
> Cat knew exactly which pictures Carly meant, because Tori and Jade had both posted several pictures of the evening. Sam didn’t use her own Spectrogram all that much, and Cat had used it a lot less since Arizona, but she did occasionally post things when she took pictures for Gio that she was proud of. She was pretty sure it was Robbie, though, who had posted a group shot of everyone at the party, which was probably how Carly had found her.
> 
> And Cat, of course, had no issues with Carly reaching out to her. If anything, it was a little odd knowing everything about Carly secondhand through Sam. She definitely wanted to get to know Sam’s best friend better.
> 
>  **HappyCat:** Hi! I’m glad you found me, it’s definitely okay that you messaged me.
> 
> She wasn’t really sure what else to say to start with, so she left it at that. She was at her crafting nook, humming as she put together a little Christmas dress suitable for a Fresno Girl Doll, but she saw she had another notification.
> 
>  **GoodShaySunshine:** I actually did want to talk to you privately.
> 
>  **GoodShaySunshine:** So like, not if Sam is looking over your shoulder or whatever.
> 
>  **GoodShaySunshine:** Oh god I shouldn’t have sent that, is Sam looking over your shoulder right now?
> 
> Cat chuckled.
> 
>  **HappyCat:** No, she’s reading on the couch, you’re safe.
> 
>  **GoodShaySunshine:** Reading, huh?
> 
>  **GoodShaySunshine:** That should keep her busy for awhile.
> 
>  **GoodShaySunshine:** So, this is about Christmas...


	7. Elation: I got that sunshine in my pocket, Got that good song in my feet

On Monday afternoon, Jade showed up with her camera. She’d offered to take pictures of Cat’s doll clothing creations for her website, emphasizing that she could make them look even better, particularly as people were beginning to shop for Christmas. Her school gave students half a week off to study before final exams began, and Jade had wanted to come over and do it before it got to be too late into the month and also, she claimed, she needed a break from schoolwork.

Sam figured she could just watch TV while Jade and Cat worked together, but then there was Jade, tugging at her arm to get her to her feet.

“Whaaaat?” Sam complained as she reluctantly stood.

“I’m going to show you what I’m doing and how I’m doing it, so that when Cat makes new things, you can make sure the pictures continue to look great.”

“I don’t really see what’s wrong with the pictures we have,” Sam grumbled. Until now, she’d appreciated Jade’s offer to come and do this favor, but now that she’d been tasked with paying attention, she decided there was nothing wrong with the pictures she and Cat had been taking.

“There isn’t anything _wrong_ with your pictures,” Jade sounded like she was making an effort here, “But they could be better. And I’m going to show you how."

Sam sighed, “Okay. I guess show me what to do.”

Since Jade’s camera wasn’t exactly going to be available for them to use whenever they wanted, Jade showed them both how to effectively use Cat’s camera. It wasn’t as fancy as Jade’s, but Jade was showing them her methods for setting up the shots, where backgrounds and details in the frame made the picture look more enticing than just a set of doll’s clothes and effectively drew the eye to the product. Sam tried to listen, and had to admit that it was sort of fun to try to take a photo that Jade would approve of. It was especially nice when Jade told her at one point that “You aren’t half-bad at this.”

“Thanks a lot,” Sam rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

Hunching over doll clothes, though, made her wish she could get a massage, but Cat and Jade were focused on getting some really good pictures with Jade’s camera and updating the website, so Sam went into the bedroom to retrieve her neck massager. It was large and long, almost club shaped, and provided powerful vibrations to stiff muscles.

She came back out front with it pressed against her shoulder, buzzing madly. “You guys still need me, or can I--”

Jade interrupted her by laughing in astonishment, “Whoooa, okay, Sam, what the hell is that?”

“My neck massager?” Sam explained, like it should be obvious. She held it up, and it vibrated in her hand. “See, I hold it to my neck--” she started, mockingly.

But Jade interrupted, laughing incredulously as she said, “That is _not_ a neck massager.” 

Sam had a sinking feeling she was about to be embarrassed, “Well, that’s what Zapathon said it was. And it works.”

“Then why are there several ‘neck massagers’ that look at a lot like that in the vibrator section of the Pleasure Chest?” Jade challenged.

“What’s the Pleasure Chest? It sounds fun,” Cat piped up.

“It’s, uh…” Jade looked for a moment like she’d rather not say, “The sex toy store.”

“Oooh,” Cat drew out the sound, lilting it playfully, “Did you go there with _Tori_?”

“If you must know, _yes_ ,” Jade said testily, “Which is how I know that’s _not_ a neck massager.”

“Well, it was sold to me as one, and it works like one,” Sam said stubbornly, but after a moment, it started to feel weird to continue using it, and she lowered it and shut it off. The room sounded very quiet without the hum of it. “Maybe I’ll just get a massage from Cat later.”

“I can do that,” Cat chirped, “And maybe sometime we can go to the Pleasure Chest for a new ‘neck massager’ for you, Sam,” she teased.

It wasn’t often that Cat got to poke at Sam for not knowing something, especially not in front of other people. Sam felt herself blushing. “Sure, babe,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible, “We can get one for you, too.”

Now Cat was blushing. “Alright, plan this on your own time, guys,” Jade drawled, “I don’t need to know every detail of your sex life.”

Sam went to put her neck massager away, wondering if it really worked the way Jade claimed it did. It probably wasn’t waterproof, so she couldn’t take it in the shower. Maybe she could bring it out front with her some evening after making out with Cat in the bedroom. But, oh, that wouldn’t be at all discreet. Also, it was _loud_. Even if she got it out front without Cat noticing, would she be able to _hear_ it?

Maybe she didn’t need to worry about it right now. She was doing fine with just her hand. Sam stashed it in one of her dresser drawers, just to keep it out of sight.

-

It was early in the afternoon on Tuesday when Cat got a message on Spectrogram from a name she didn’t know but nonetheless recognized.

 **GoodShaySunshine:** Hey, it’s Carly. I found your account from those Halloween pictures you and Sam were both tagged in, I hope that’s okay!

Cat knew exactly which pictures Carly meant, because Tori and Jade had both posted several pictures of the evening. Sam didn’t use her own Spectrogram all that much, and Cat had used it a lot less since Arizona, but she did occasionally post things when she took pictures for Gio that she was proud of. She was pretty sure it was Robbie, though, who had posted a group shot and tagged everyone at the party, which was probably how Carly had found her.

And Cat, of course, had no issues with Carly reaching out to her. If anything, it was a little odd knowing everything about Carly secondhand through Sam. She definitely wanted to get to know Sam’s best friend better.

 **HappyCat:** Hi! I’m glad you found me, it’s definitely okay that you messaged me.

She wasn’t really sure what else to say to start with, so she left it at that. She was at her crafting nook, humming as she put together a little Christmas dress suitable for a Fresno Girl Doll, but she saw she had another notification.

 **GoodShaySunshine:** I actually did want to talk to you privately.

 **GoodShaySunshine:** So like, not if Sam is looking over your shoulder or whatever.

 **GoodShaySunshine:** Oh god I shouldn’t have sent that, is Sam looking over your shoulder right now?

Cat chuckled.

 **HappyCat:** No, she’s reading on the couch, you’re safe.

 **GoodShaySunshine:** Reading, huh?

 **GoodShaySunshine:** That should keep her busy for awhile.

 **GoodShaySunshine:** So, this is about Christmas...

Cat didn’t get much sewing done over the next half hour or so, as she and Carly plotted Sam’s Christmas gift, which was essentially a surprise visit from Carly. Apparently, Sam was under the impression that Carly was staying in Italy for Christmas, when in fact she and her dad were both travelling to Seattle to spend Christmas with her brother, Spencer. And after Christmas, Carly still had time during her break from school, and she wanted to come down to LA to visit Sam for about a week.

Cat was thrilled with the notion, and as they ironed out as many details as they could through Spectrogram, was torn between the urge to engineer the surprise for Sam and the urge to let her girlfriend in on the secret that was making her so excited. She felt full of happy energy, and she did her best to channel it into her project, but eventually, she couldn’t sit with it all by herself.

She approached the couch, circling around to gaze down at Sam, who noticed her after a long moment. She blinked and straightened, “You were so quiet over there I almost forgot you were sewing,” she commented, folding down the corner of a page of _The Shining_ and closing it. She was almost finished with it, it seemed.

Cat hadn’t really been sewing much, which was why she’d been so quiet, so instead she asked, “Doesn’t that book freak you out?”

“Nah,” Sam replied, “It’s weird and kind of cool, but I’m not scared.” She was still looking up at Cat expectantly.

“Then, how would you feel about taking a little break from your reading?” Cat suggested coyly.

In answer, Sam set her book aside and reached for Cat, pulling her onto the couch with her.

-

It was night, and they were in Sam’s bed together. Since Saturday evening, their intimacy had returned to the intensity they’d been enjoying before Thanksgiving and the couple of weeks that Cat had been really low, and it had felt wonderful to get swept up in that kind passion again, the kind that left her breathless and desirous, her heart feeling like it could never be satiated with enough of Cat.

Sam knew where the boundaries were, and was careful to stay within them, but Carly’s question still lingered. Why _weren’t_ they having sex yet? Sam would be happy to wait as long as necessary, but she did also wonder if placing all of the responsibility of escalation in Cat’s hands was a lot of pressure.

For now, she had Cat pressed into the mattress beneath her, the hand that wasn’t keeping her balanced on the bed moving against Cat’s long-sleeved pajama top, caressing her breasts through the fabric. Cat squirmed and arched closer to her, emitting quiet whimpers between their kisses, her hands slipping beneath Sam’s t-shirt to caress the skin of her back, but staying atop her shirt when they moved to the front of her body. Sam felt desire pool like molten liquid lower in her belly each time one of Cat’s delicate hands even grazed over a breast, sensations that only got more ferocious as her hands lingered, fingers squeezing delicately, palm passing over a nipple, and Sam could do little else than kiss Cat harder, let her own hand move more deliberately over Cat’s breasts.

Sam wasn’t looking to renegotiate boundaries, or push for anything, but she _was_ curious, and tried to keep that in the forefront of her aroused brain as she formulated her question. “Do you...want to do more?” is how it came out.

Maybe not the best phrasing. Sam winced inwardly as soon as it was out of her mouth. She felt and heard Cat take a deep breath and reply in a voice strained with need, “Yeah. Of course I do.”

Sam tried to figure out how to formulate more words, to try to fix what might have sounded like a request or a demand in the moment. She rolled off of Cat, thinking some distance might do her good, but left a hand on Cat’s stomach, to at least stay connected. Cat turned more toward her, eyes curious, face still flushed. “I’m not...asking for anything, or...I just know...I mean, I want to take things as slow as you want, I just...I guess, need to know that this is as slow as you want. Fuck. Am I making any sense?” She had to stop trying to have these conversations when they were already wound up, but this was when she remembered things like wondering why they weren’t having sex.

But Cat just giggled, “Yeah. You’re making sense. And I still want to take things slow, like this.” She reached for Sam’s hand, the one that wasn’t resting just beneath Cat’s ribs, and held it, taking a deep, steadying breath. “I’ve been really focused on...taking things step by step. Because I really, _really_ , want to remember these new moments we’re experiencing together. I want to remember them for a long time. So I’m trying to savor them. So I can really create new memories of _us_ , and everything we get to do together. That’s why I’m taking things so slow.”

The impact of Cat’s reasoning filled Sam with heat, but in her chest. It made _so much_ sense that Sam didn’t know how she didn’t realize it before. Making memories--the thing that caused Cat so much distress and made it hard to even talk about the past sometimes. Cat was so focused on the present joy of being together, of exploring incrementally, that she wasn’t even thinking about the end goal, the way Sam always was.

But from this perspective, Sam could consider the delight in their gradual pacing. She was creating memories, too; she could certainly vividly remember each new stage of exploration they’d experienced together, and it was all above the waist, so far. The kind of exploration Sam had done with Wendy had been much messier--furtive, hurried, hot in its rushed secrecy, but not all that memorable. The moments were jumbled, easily confused, happening all at once and on top of each other in a way that made them difficult to untangle.

It wouldn’t be the case with Cat. And even though Sam ached for what they hadn’t done yet, she was grateful, too, for the exercise in patience. She was even more certain, now, that it would pay off in the end. That when they finally had sex for the first time, Sam would never forget it.

Right now, though, they were lying next to each other, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes, and Sam could see Cat’s lower lip disappear between her teeth, the corners of her mouth upticked slyly. Sam smiled at her softly, communicating without words that she understood Cat’s reasoning, but then Cat released Sam’s hand and shifted to cover Sam’s other hand, moving it gently until it she’d tucked it just under the hem of her shirt, resting against her bare skin above her hip bone. “I want you to touch me like this,” she spoke quietly.

Sam didn’t move. “Like this,” she echoed dumbly, unwilling to guess at what Cat might mean.

“Like...under the shirt,” Cat whispered, her dark eyes almost glittering in the dim light of the bedroom.

“But you’re not wearing…” Sam trailed off and swallowed as Cat simply looked at her significantly. “O-oh,” she stuttered.

She moved her hand slowly up the familiar territory of Cat’s stomach and ribs, the skin warm beneath her fingers, taking her time because the idea of cementing this memory appealed to her as much as it probably appealed to Cat. Cat’s body was already pushing closer to her, encouraging her, mouth parted slightly, eyes longing. Sam watched her face as her hand slipped up further, heard the sharp inhale as her fingers first grazed the soft swell of Cat’s breast. She could tell that Cat was holding her breath as she paused, just for a moment, then let her hand continue its motion to cover Cat’s breast fully, fingers flexing gently, Cat’s nipple firm under her palm.

Cat released her breath in a rush, a sigh with a hint of a whine at the edge of it, and pulled in another shuddering gasp. Sam could feel her chest rise beneath her hand, could see her eyelids flutter, but her eyes stayed open, still gazing at Sam, maintaining their connection. “Cat,” Sam managed weakly, not questioning or seeking anything, just acknowledging the moment, the way intimacy felt like a veil around them, like nothing existed outside her bed. Just Sam, and Cat, and Cat’s bare breast in her hand.

As if in answer, Cat surged forward, lips connecting with Sam’s, her hand covering Sam’s from the outside of her top, urging her hand to move. Not that Sam needed much encouragement as she squeezed carefully, letting her hand shift to the side so that her thumb ran purposefully over Cat’s nipple. She felt Cat’s high-pitched whimper against her mouth, the urgency in it, the sound alone making heat flare between her legs that turned to an ache as Cat’s kisses grew needier, as Sam let her hand run over the soft skin of her breast again.

They pulled apart, foreheads resting together, then Sam drew back enough to be able to watch Cat’s face as she moved her hand beneath her shirt. Cat was still looking at her with heavy-lidded eyes, her mouth was still parted, and Sam watched the way she squirmed and listened to her soft, breathy moans as she explored her breasts through touch, her own breath catching at the high-pitched whimper Cat released as she gently closed her fingers around a nipple, not even pinching or tugging or rolling.

But just as Sam was considering the impact of her position, and wondering how much she should escalate, whether more sensation might be welcome, she felt Cat’s hand tucking itself under the hem of her t-shirt, fingers splaying over her side, but prevented from moving any higher by the way Sam’s arm was balanced against her waist. Sam realized she had a choice to make and took in Cat’s expression, the quirk of her lip, the mischievous desire in her eyes, and slowly let her hand slide down Cat’s torso so she could lift her arm, giving Cat more access beneath her shirt.

Sam kept her hand resting on Cat’s waist for a moment, sucking in an anticipatory breath as she felt Cat’s hand travel higher, felt the press of fingers and the graze of a palm against her stomach, and heard herself groan softly as Cat’s hand spread out over her breast.

Cat echoed Sam’s groan with an awed exhale, and Sam kept her eyes open, watching the way Cat’s jaw went a little slack and her eyes lost focus, then dipped away from looking back at Sam to looking down at her shirt. Sam’s eyes followed hers and she took in the shape of knuckles and fingers moving slowly beneath the fabric, the corresponding caresses igniting her nerves like tiny sparks.

Sam herself tried to stretch out, maybe push a little closer, but ended up shifting onto her back, granting Cat greater access to her chest. Her attention moved back to Cat’s expression, to eyes alight with eagerness, with desire, mouth still a bit slack with wonder. She could feel the adoration in Cat’s movements, almost studious like she was mapping out the bare flesh her hand had now access to. Sam sighed at the way fingers pressed and caressed and a palm skimmed over her nipple, as if Cat was afraid anything else would be too intense.

Cat’s attention shifted back to Sam’s face for a moment and the impact of her eyes, beautiful and full of zealous desire, felt like a physical fluttering in her chest, like something blooming or awakening. Then Cat moved closer to her, looking down at Sam for a moment before closing the distance to kiss her, her moan meeting Sam’s as their lips and tongues met, her hand still roving beneath Sam’s shirt. Sam could only hold onto her and kiss her back, and let Cat generate mutual pleasure between them.

Sam wasn’t sure how long she spent like this, on her back, Cat’s hand on her breasts and her mouth against her own, she only knew that no one she’d been with had ever coaxed so much passion out of her just by touching her above the waist. That it wasn’t only desire radiating between them, it was love, too, and Sam felt like she was bathing in it, like it soaked into her skin, leaving her swollen with emotion and sensation, each caress of Cat’s hand spurring her to burn brighter, each taste of her tongue making Sam shiver as the ache of longing pooled down her body to her core.

But eventually, Cat’s movements slowed, her kisses that tasted of need began to ebb, her hand drew away and slipped down to Sam’s waist, holding her there, until they were just nuzzling one another, foreheads together, and Sam just closed her eyes and breathed with her girlfriend, letting everything that had just happened absorb in her overloaded mind.

Finally, Sam heard her own rough voice as she spoke, “Well? Do you think you made some memories tonight?”

Cat laughed softly and pressed another gentle kiss to Sam’s mouth. “Beautiful memories,” she sighed when she pulled away.

And though Sam definitely didn’t think she’d be in any shape for sleep after the intensity of what they’d just shared, when Cat turned over in her bed and coaxed Sam into spooning her, Sam tucked herself up against Cat’s body, perfectly content, the comfort and warmth between them lulling her to sleep.

-

Cat’s session with Dr. Penny had flown by. She was in a very good mood, and it felt almost like chatting with a friend during that hour and not really like she was working on anything in particular. They’d talked about Christmas, about how she and Robbie were choosing their classes for community college, about how much she was enjoying making and selling doll clothes, about how _physical_ she and Sam had been getting. When she’d mentioned that it hadn’t felt much like therapy at the end of her meeting, Dr. Penny assured her that this was normal enough, that she was happy that Cat was having such a good week and to enjoy it. And realistically, Cat knew that things she was struggling with hadn’t gone away, it was just that Christmas was coming, and she was _excited_ about it. It was hard to be that worried about anything else.

She met up with Sam and Jade at the stationery store, as usual. It was the very beginning of Jade’s finals week, which meant that Sam was probably lucky she was available to meet up at all, and with a hug from Cat and a shoulder nudge from Sam, Jade left them, hurrying back to her dorm to undoubtedly prepare for a wild week.

The motorcycle ride home felt like another expression of Cat’s upbeat mood. And when she got home, she was pleased to have things to work on. It felt _good_ to accomplish things. She texted with Robbie for a bit about their classes. She sent an email to one of the progressive churches in the area inquiring about openings for their living nativity scene. She checked her website to see what sold. She had a productive afternoon, happily humming as she absorbed herself in her tasks until dinnertime, and then she and Sam watched a movie on the couch (they’d stumbled across an 80s movie about a business woman who inherited a baby and started a gourmet baby food empire that was funny enough to keep Sam’s interest and inspirational to Cat given her recent entrepreneurial endeavor--also, there was a cute baby) before eventually heading to bed.

All in all, a really good day.

The next morning was shaping up to be another productive one. After breakfast, Cat told Sam she had some clothes to work on, and she really intended to do so. She even got started on a cute jacket with faux fur lining when her plan got derailed a bit.

But it was welcome, because it was Carly texting her.

After the initial conversation over Spectrogram earlier that week, they’d exchanged phone numbers to make communication easier. Cat had put Carly in her phone under a fake name (choosing an old classmate whose phone number she’d never had, so that if Sam happened to see the name on her phone and wonder who it was, it would at least be someone plausible). It still felt _weird_ to keep this secret from Sam. She thought that the excitement of it was part of what was elevating her mood.

Sam was using her computer on the couch, doing who knew what, while Cat was over in her crafting nook texting with Carly. They were still arranging details of the surprise for Sam, minor things like when Carly should fly down from Seattle, who would pick her up from the airport, how to explain anything suspicious to Sam. Cat decided to concoct a story about a relative coming to stay with them, and to keep Goomer from spoiling her plan, told him that’s what was happening when she asked him to pick Carly up at the airport.

But apparently, whatever Sam was doing on her computer required less of her focus than reading had, because she noticed pretty quickly how quiet Cat was being. “What are you doing back there?” she asked, craning her neck over the back of the couch.

“Nothing!” Cat called back. A little _too_ quickly. She glanced over to see Sam turned around on the couch, looking at her suspiciously.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re working on something,” she narrowed her eyes, then blinked, expression clearing, “Not that I’m saying you _have_ to be working,” she clarified.

“I’m just working on something else,” Cat replied.

“Like what?” Sam asked. 

In answer, Cat put her phone down and began walking over to the couch. Sam watched her the whole way, until Cat was standing behind the couch, facing her. “Turn around,” Cat instructed.

“Why?” Sam drawled.

“You’ll see.”

Sam didn’t seem convinced by that answer, but she slid down and turned around to face forward on the couch. Cat grabbed her shoulders and began to press with her fingers, massaging the tight area up near her neck. Sam groaned aloud at the contact. “Oh, god,” she said quietly.

Cat continued massaging Sam in silence. It was a tactic, sure, to get Sam to forget about what Cat was working on. She knew there were probably limits to her ability to keep a secret; it wasn’t something she had a lot of practice with and she worried that the right direct question from Sam would spoil everything, even with the pretend scenario of the visiting relative she’d come up with. And she thought this might be a more effective distraction than kissing. Which Sam might see through, as much as they both would enjoy it.

Besides, Sam needed massages like this every once in a while, and Cat hadn’t gotten around to giving her one that day Jade claimed her neck massager was a sex toy. Sam never sat on furniture like a lady, she was always sprawling or sagging in ways that really weren’t good for her posture. Cat knew she wasn’t about to break Sam’s furniture habits, but at least she could help loosen the tight muscles of her shoulders and back.

Though Cat wasn’t speaking as she massaged Sam, Sam wasn’t quite being quiet. The sounds she emitted as Cat ran her thumbs over knots in her shoulders started out subdued, suppressed, but it wasn’t long before Sam was unable to keep holding back. The groans she let out were familiar, so similar to the sounds she made when Cat kissed her neck or caressed her breasts. It made Cat’s heart beat faster, eager. She’d given Sam massages before they were together, and though there was nothing particular erotic about a shoulder massage then or now, the closeness with Sam, and how it felt to touch her in ways that brought her pleasure, definitely had an effect on Cat. And probably on Sam herself. Cat recalled the way she’d sometimes disappear to take a shower after such a massage.

When Cat’s hands finally began to get tired, she leaned over and pressed a kiss just below Sam’s ear. She heard Sam sigh quietly, relieved and pleased, and when Cat straightened, Sam tipped her head back against the couch to gaze up at her. “That felt so good,” Sam murmured.

“You’re welcome,” Cat replied, bending a little awkwardly to kiss Sam upside down. Like the _Spiderman_ kiss, but horizontal.

She felt Sam grinning into the kiss. Everything about kissing this way felt new, different, and she felt Sam’s hand slide up through her hair to settle on the back of her head, keeping her there for a moment, letting the kiss linger.

When she lifted her head, they continued to gaze at each other. Cat considered going back to her workspace, but she didn’t really want to. And with the way Sam had closed her computer and set it on the coffee table before Cat even came over to rub her shoulders, it seemed she didn’t have anything pressing going on either.

Cat made her decision, and climbed over the back of the couch next to Sam, then smoothly straddled her lap, catching the way her eyes widened and ran all over Cat’s body, her chest lifted with a sharp inhale, her hands settled on Cat’s waist carefully.

Cat leaned in to catch Sam’s lips in another kiss, this one more ferocious, the groans Sam had let out during the massage now reverberating against Cat’s mouth, exhilaration blooming in her chest. Kissing Sam would never not make Cat feel like the world was open to possibilities, like the two of them together could love each other through anything.

They focused on kissing for a long time, enjoying the sensation, the closeness. Cat could feel Sam’s hand running along the hem of her top and she whimpered softly in encouragement.

The front door opened suddenly, “Coming in--OH MY GOD.”

Cat sprang off of Sam to settle next to her on the sofa the moment she realized what was happening. “ _Dice_ ,” she groaned, hands automatically straightening her clothes.

“I’m sorry!” he hollered, standing in the open doorway with a hand covering his eyes, “I didn’t see anything!” he insisted.

“That’s because we weren’t _doing_ anything,” Sam replied harshly, “We _told_ you to knock!”

“I know, I know,” Dice groaned, groping to shut the front door. “Trust me. I’ve learned my lesson.”

He was still standing there covering his eyes, and Cat snapped, “Oh, it’s not like we’re _indecent_ in here.”

Dice lowered his hands, “Sorry,” he muttered again.

“Now what’s so important you came barging in here?” Sam gestured at him to hurry and spill.

“Oh! Right! Sam, you’re not going to believe what I found!”

Cat listened to Dice’s sales pitch for towel-scarves, which when worn around the neck would provide convenient hip-level hand towels on both sides of the body. She always did like listening to his spiels and she thought this sounded like something she might enjoy using. Dice, of course, had invested in enough to move as merchandise, and was selling Sam on that idea as much as he was selling Cat on buying one. In the end, Cat bought a towel-scarf, and Sam was game to make some money, so she hauled herself off of the sofa to grab a snack before heading out with Dice.

“What are you doing for Christmas, Dice?” Cat asked him as Sam dug around in the fridge for something to eat.

Dice sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. “I think my Aunt Fergene’s parents are coming to town,” he said, annoyed, “And they’re just as weird as she is!”

Cat blinked as she thought that over. “So...your aunt’s parents...wouldn’t that make them your grandparents?”

“No.” At Cat’s blank look, he explained, “I guess _technically_ they’re my step-grandparents. We’re not that close.”

“What?” Cat asked bluntly, fully confused now.

“My mom married Aunt Fergene, so--”

“Your mom married _your aunt_?!” Cat asked in horror.

“Whoa! She’s not _really_ my aunt! Not like, biologically! It’s just what I call her.”

“Wait,” Cat said slowly, the pieces falling into place now.

“My mom and my Aunt Fergene are together,” Dice said, words slightly slower and more deliberate. “You know, like you two. You didn’t know that?”

“No!” Cat shook her head, “I just...the word aunt...I never thought of it like that.”

“I didn’t know, either, but I get it,” Sam put in from the kitchen, “My mom used to try to get us to call some of her boyfriends ‘Uncle So-and-So’ sometimes. But, eh. They never lasted long and eventually we stopped believing they’d be any kind of family to us.”

It was always weird to hear Sam talk about her childhood, particularly when she referred to herself and her twin collectively. She looked a little embarrassed to have even brought it up and she shoved a forkful of cold pasta into her mouth as she stood at the kitchen island. Most of what Sam said about her mom was half in jest, but this just sounded real and, Cat thought, sort of painful.

But Dice just nodded, brushing past the awkwardness. “Yeah. They got together when I was like, eight or nine. I already had a mom and at the time Fergene wasn’t really looking to parent me, so ‘Aunt’ made sense. And then it just stuck, and it is what it is.”

Cat found herself wondering, and not for the first time, about Dice’s dad. But it wasn’t any of her business. And that led her to wonder about Sam’s dad. Which also wasn’t any of her business. But maybe could be, if Sam ever wanted to share.

She supposed she should be grateful to have a relationship with her dad, even though he lived far away and didn’t always know what to say to her. That, she figured, was certainly better than nothing.

-

The week passed quickly, between the time spent selling scarf-towels with Dice, taking on some extra babysitting work so parents could go out shopping for Christmas presents, prepping packages of doll clothes to be mailed off, and long make-out sessions with Cat. When they weren’t making out, Cat seemed wholly fixated on Christmas; she’d suggested a while ago that they make each other Christmas gifts, which Sam thought sounded fine, but then Sam found out Wednesday, just before they were getting ready to take Cat to therapy, that Cat had also signed them up to participate in a living nativity scene as Mary and Joseph. That part Sam was a little less interested in, but Cat was so excited Sam couldn’t even consider trying to get out of it.

Jade, who was lingering on campus for as long as she was allowed before going to her mother’s for the winter holiday, met up with Sam for one last lunch at Donut Street. Sam wasn’t sure it was going to make sense at all to hang out during Cat’s appointments when Jade wasn’t _right there_ , but Jade would also have more free time during her break from school, so Sam figured they probably wouldn’t have a chance to miss each other much. 

Afterward, Cat came out of her appointment seeming to be in a very good mood, and bubbled to Sam about the relative who was coming to visit just after Christmas. Some cousin or something. Sam tried not to be disappointed about the fact that they’d be hosting someone in their apartment for the last week of December, and mostly, she thought it would be fine. People slept there all the time--Dice, Goomer, even Nona slept over sometimes. It was only different now because of the intimacy she and Cat were exploring, which they might have less freedom to engage in.

And, Cat was excited about their visitor. There was no way Sam would do anything to ruin that.

During the ride to her Thursday therapy appointment, Sam began to realize that there was less than a week until Christmas and there was still so much to do. Where had all the time gone?

Sam was maybe a bit scattered as she sat down with Lanelle (who was wearing a rare skirt today; Sam tried not to stare at her legs), and her therapist led the conversation in the direction of the upcoming holiday. Maybe it was a lucky guess, or maybe it was just where a lot of her clients struggled this time of year. “How is the holiday season treating you this year?” she asked.

Sam sighed, “Okay, I guess. Cat’s really excited. I still have to figure out some gifts. I dunno. I guess I’m a little stressed about that? But mostly I just want to make sure Cat has a good Christmas.”

“Because Cat had to shift her expectations for Thanksgiving, isn’t that right?” Lanelle asked. It had been covered during their session two weeks before, just as Cat started to come out of her depressive funk.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “Which, even though that turned out great, I think it makes it even more important to Cat that Christmas goes well and is special. Since, you know, it’s our first Christmas together, like as a couple.”

“So, are Cat’s expectations for Christmas the same as yours? Are you also looking forward to it being special?”

“Not really,” Sam replied bluntly, “Christmas is really just another day, you know?” Lanelle nodded to show she was listening, expression attentive, and Sam felt compelled to elaborate. “I just really want it to go well because of Cat. Traditions and celebrations are really important to her. She made up an entire holiday about gift giving, with an origin story and _everything_ , because she enjoys that kind of thing so much. But for me, like...we didn’t really have a lot of Christmas traditions or anything growing up.”

“You’ve mentioned before that some of your family thinks you’re Jewish, too. Is that part of it?” Lanelle wondered.

Sam chuckled, “No, although that kind of ensured we got holiday gifts from my grandma. I just mean, like...once Carly and I were old enough to have money, we would get each other stuff. So I could count on that. But with my mom, like, who knew? We might pull the tree out of the closet and set it up, we might not. She might get us an actual present, or she might just wrap up a box of Band-Aids from the bathroom. I just learned not to expect anything, and it got easier.”

“That sounds like it was difficult,” Lanelle observed sympathetically.

“It was whatever,” Sam brushed it off. “Even now, like, I have no idea what my mom might do. She might call and say she needs money right before Christmas or she might send me something completely useless, like a Bikini of the Month subscription or something, who knows? Melanie and I agreed to not worry about Christmas for each other, so it’s really just Cat. And I’ve just been so busy lately, I worry I won’t be able to meet her expectations.”

“Work stress can really impact our ability to enjoy holidays,” Lanelle said sympathetically. “You know,” she remarked, “We’ve never really talked about what you do for work, have we?”

“Guess not,” Sam replied with a light laugh, “That’s because I don’t really work consistently.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. So what do you do when you are working?”

“Cat and I babysit kids a couple of times a week. We used to do it more. Otherwise, I’m mostly selling things. Our neighbor Dice is like this teenage entrepreneur. Always buying and selling stuff. Don’t know where he gets that kinda drive. But I’ve always been pretty good at talking people into buying things, so I help him out sometimes to make some extra money.”

“I see. Is steadier work something you need for financial stability, or something you’re interested in?”

Sam shifted a bit uncomfortably. It was still a little weird to her that she had enough money to rely on. She was so used to never having enough, and sometimes, she let herself continue to think that so she wouldn’t overspend. It almost made her feel a little _guilty_ at times, that this thing she did with her best friends that was a lot of work (when she showed up for it) but mostly fun and silly had given them all such a cushion. And probably a greater one for her, since she wasn’t spending any of it on her education like Carly and Freddie were. “That webshow that I used to do with my friends actually made us a decent amount of money,” she revealed, somewhat reluctantly. “We just couldn’t really touch it until we were adults, I think. So Cat and I are _fine_ , really. I still make money from our show. There’s money invested that keeps making more money somehow--I’ve never understood it--and then Cat and I make money on our own for stuff like groceries and when we want to do something fun.” She shrugged to try to shake off the guilt that _having money_ brought up for her. “So I just kind of work when I want to.”

“That’s incredible,” Lanelle replied. Sam felt scrutinized, though there was nothing in Lanelle’s tone that indicated any kind of judgment or envy. “Financial security is such a wonderful thing to have achieved so young, and I know you all worked hard for your success.”

“Thanks.” Sam figured that acknowledging the topic would make Lanelle drop it.

“So then, what do you want to do?” Lanelle asked broadly.

“Do?” Sam repeated, narrowing her eyes.

“Since your work schedule is flexible and your primary concern isn’t making money, is there something you enjoy filling your time with that you find rewarding? Any hobbies? Maybe creative pursuits, like the webshow you used to do?”

This wasn’t exactly what Sam wanted to talk about, but she went along with it uncertainly. “I guess I like art,” she offered, “Like, drawing and painting, I mean. I’m pretty good at it. Cat, like, treasures the things I draw for her. Otherwise, I dunno. I just like to relax. Watch TV. Read sometimes. I do like to do maintenance on my motorcycle.” Something occurred to her as she talked it out. “Cat and I agreed to make each other gifts this year and I still haven’t done anything. But maybe I can draw something for her.”

“It sounds like she’d really love that,” Lanelle replied. “Is that something you want to do more of? Art, I mean?”

Sam thought about it. “You know, maybe I would. My best friend Carly’s brother is a sculptor. His work was always totally bizarre, but cool, too. I don’t really know how he ever made money at it, but like, if I’m not really worried about that, maybe it’s something I can just do because I like it. And, I don’t know. Maybe I want to try sculpting, too, sometime.” She remembered something else. “Also, I took this ride on my bike a couple of months back, up north. And I found this coffee shop there that has like, art shows, and they sell your pieces for you. Maybe I could take advantage of that somehow.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of resources available to you,” Lanelle pointed out, “Mentors who can offer advice, and even a venue to display your work. That’s remarkable.”

“Yeah,” Sam said slowly, “I guess that’s kinda lucky, huh?”

-

Cat had gone to visit Nona while Sam went to therapy, and because Nona always took her time with everything and told long-winded stories, she stayed at Elderly Acres for awhile. In fact, while Nona was in the middle of a boring story about a jazz musician she used to date, Cat got a text from Sam.

**Whatever you do**

**Do not close the door to the safe when you get home**

**I’m in here**

Cat didn’t think much of it. They’d cleaned up the space after their Blue Dog Soda operation exploded back there, but hadn’t really done much with it since. Maybe Sam had gotten inspired to do something with it. Cat already knew she could trust Sam with apartment decorating.

Nona dropped her off back at home and Cat headed back to the bedroom immediately. The safe door was still standing wide open. “Sam?” she called.

“Back here,” Sam called back.

“What are you doing?” Cat began hoisting herself up into the crawlspace.

“Don’t come back here,” Sam warned.

Cat paused, curious now. “Why not?”

“Because I’m _working on something_.”

“And I’m not allowed to see?”

“Nope.”

Cat stayed where she was for a moment, considering. She wasn’t about to crawl back there anyway, but the curiosity was killing her. Of course, she realized it might have something to do with Christmas. That didn’t make her any _less_ curious, really, but at least on her new medication the absolute _need_ to snoop was less overwhelming. “When are you coming out?” Cat asked.

Sam’s face appeared at the other end of the crawlspace, and she grinned at the sight of Cat. “I’ll be out a little later. Just in the middle of something.”

“Okay,” Cat beamed at her. “How was therapy?” she asked, because it was something they usually asked each other.

“Good,” Sam replied, her usual answer.

Cat nodded and slid back down to the floor, “Okay. Have fun. I love you!”

Sam laughed, “I love you, too.”

It occurred to Cat that it would be a good time to work on Sam’s present, if she was holed up and out of the way. When she’d suggested they make things for each other, Cat intended for Carly to be Sam’s present, but then she realized that with Carly arriving the day after Christmas, she still needed something for Sam for Christmas Day. She didn’t want anything like Yay Day to happen again, where Sam felt let down by a gift from Cat.

Luckily, she could adhere to the notion of not spending by talking to Herb. He still had the leather jacket she’d traded for the crusty pillow at Yay Day, something she’d meant to get back from him as soon as she’d realized her mistake on Yay Day (she’d made it up to Sam with a lot of meatballs instead). But the jacket didn’t fit Herb, so of course, he’d never worn it. And because Herb was _weird_ , he had been willing to trade the jacket back in exchange for Cat’s Baberaham Lincoln top hat.

Cat would’ve loved to make Sam a jacket from scratch--it would take a while, but she was sure she had the skill, but as it stood, she was happy to just modify the one she’d bought for her a long time ago. Mainly by sewing in a new liner--which she’d accomplished during the times Sam was off selling things with Dice. But she was also replacing the zippers on it and was putting _Sweet Mama_ across the shoulders.

She thought this definitely counted as making Sam a gift.

Sam stayed back in the secret room behind the safe for a long time, which gave Cat time to put the finishing touches on Sam’s jacket and stash it in her closet. Since her closet door was always closed and Sam never had a reason to go in that side of the closet (and wasn’t a snooper), it was a reasonably safe place to hide gifts for Sam. When Cat began making dinner, Sam finally emerged. Cat could hear the safe door slam shut, and then, only when she listened for it, the faint sound of water running from the bathroom.

Sam came out dressed in the kind of clothes she usually wore to bed. Cat wondered if she was wearing them the whole time she was in the safe or if she’d just changed into them. She couldn’t remember what Sam had been wearing when she saw her face in at the end of the crawlspace. 

The details were beginning to line up. Cat had vowed not to snoop, but she couldn’t help her curiosity, and she had a feeling that Sam might be doing something a little messy in the secret room behind the safe.

Maybe something like painting. Something Cat already knew she was good at.

But Cat didn’t let on that she suspected. She was more proud of herself for figuring it out without snooping, because then, the urge to snoop faded away even more, and she could just anticipate what the gift itself might end up looking like.

And later, after dinner, Cat realized that Sam’s pajama shirt was more than just a curiosity, or a clue. It was an opportunity.

Sam was beneath her on the couch, making quiet sounds in her throat as Cat kissed her way from her mouth to her neck, nuzzling the spot beneath her ear that always tended to make her squirm. Sam fingers flexed over Cat’s breast; her hand was sandwiched between their bodies, though it was over Cat’s shirt (her cardigan had been discarded around the time she got Sam onto her back). Cat stifled a gasp at the sensation; even through her clothes, sometimes Sam’s touches were so evocative it made Cat shiver deliciously. She let her own hand run down Sam’s body, fingers slipping beneath her thin t-shirt, flattening her hand against Sam’s warm stomach.

Sam inhaled at the contact, and Cat broke away to shift her body up, giving herself more access to Sam’s. Sam’s hand stayed on her chest, but shifted and flattened slightly, like she was pressing her palm against Cat’s heart. Cat let her hand boldly slip up Sam’s shirt to her bare breast, taking in the entirety of Sam’s reaction: the flood of desire in her eyes, the squirmy trembling of her body, the mild whine in her exhale. Cat _loved_ this, both the way her own body felt hot and excited when she touched Sam’s breasts, and being able to see so clearly the way she was affecting Sam. The way these experiences put into stark relief that they both wanted so intensely and still had so much space left to explore.

And speaking of exploration, Cat was still lifted above and beside Sam, eyes drifting from her face to where she knew her hand was beneath Sam’s shirt. She wanted to _see_ what she was touching, see the contrast of her own hand against Sam’s skin. She let her hand slip back down to the bottom of her t-shirt, lifting it slightly to display some of Sam’s stomach playfully.

Sam’s eyes were flicking between Cat’s face and her hand. “Is my shirt in the way?” she asked, voice raspy with desire.

Cat stopped breathing for a long moment at the implication of Sam’s question. Removing clothes could escalate quickly. Too quickly. “I want to lift it, but it has to stay on,” Cat stated the boundary clearly, really more for herself than for Sam.

Sam met her eyes, looking cautiously eager, and nodded slowly. Cat sat up more fully, settling between the back of the couch and Sam’s legs, and allowed the fingertips of both hands to skate over the pale skin of Sam’s stomach, feeling the way her body jerked slightly. “Tickles,” Sam murmured by way of explanation.

Cat nodded and stopped with the light touches on Sam’s stomach, instead letting both hands pinch the hem of her shirt gently to lift higher, stopping just beneath her breasts, taking in Sam’s torso. Smooth, pale skin that expanded with her breaths. Cat noticed a freckle under her ribcage and was compelled by the desire to kiss it.

So she did, bending over awkwardly to press her lips softly against the freckle on Sam’s stomach.

Sam gasped, and arched, her hand settling on the back of Cat’s head. Cat paused, turning her head enough to glance up at Sam, trying to discern if Sam was encouraging her or trying to slow her down, her lips still ghosting over her skin. Sam looked at her, desire etched into her features, eyes longing, mouth parted like there were words she couldn’t quite say.

Tentatively, Cat placed another gentle kiss against stomach, watching keenly for a reaction. Sam let out a soft sigh. “Kiss me more,” she whispered.

Eagerly, Cat accepted the invitation, letting her lips wander all over the newly exposed skin, noting the way the soft, fluttery kisses made her squirm in a different way than the firmer kisses, the way ticklish could change so swiftly to desirous. Sam’s hand remained gentle on the back of her head, not pushing or guiding, just another point of connection between them, though occasionally her fingers would tighten subtly in response to something Cat did.

Cat let her kisses move higher, moving from Sam’s stomach to her ribs, nose brushing against the fabric of her t-shirt, bunched up just under her breasts. She wanted to do more, she knew she was ready for more, that the memory of it would be vivid and perfect. She lifted her head again, this time to kiss Sam’s lips.

She felt Sam’s arms wrap around her, eager, pulling her closer, but also tugging at Cat’s shirt, slipping a hand between them again, this time under Cat’s shirt. Cat whimpered against Sam’s mouth as she felt fingers trip past her nipple as Sam’s palm cupped her breast through her bra.

“No fair,” Sam breathed.

“What?” Cat asked dazedly.

“You’re wearing a bra,” Sam pointed out.

Cat giggled and kissed her chin, “You already knew that.”

“But what if I want to do some of what you’re doing to me?” Sam asked, voice tight with want.

“All I’ve done is kiss your stomach,” Cat pointed out, “You could still do that.”

Sam looked at her for a long moment, tongue running over her lips. “Maybe I want _you_ to do more.”

Cat felt her face spread into a slow smile. “Like lift your shirt higher?”

“Maybe _exactly_ like that,” Sam replied boldly.

Cat kissed her once more before lifting and leaning, feeling Sam’s hand slide out from under her shirt as she shifted her position. She felt her heart in her throat as she watched her own fingers carefully grip Sam’s shirt and then slowly tug up. She could feel Sam beneath and next to her, shoulders scrunching, trying to help the t-shirt lift, the back of it caught under her on the couch. They worked together and all at once, the shirt lifted in a jerk, bunching at Sam’s collarbones.

And in a moment, Cat was staring at Sam’s bare breasts.

She let herself stare, placing her hand on Sam’s ribs just beneath them, letting her view be unobstructed for the moment. “Sam,” she murmured in awe. 

She glanced up to find Sam watching her, lower lip between her teeth, slightly obscuring her growing grin. “Yeah?” she asked.

“You’re beautiful,” Cat told her, eyes dropped back to her chest, slightly shy at the admission. She heard Sam snort, but she didn’t say anything else, because Cat moved her hand up to cover one breast.

Neither of them moved for a moment. Cat wasn’t sure if either of them were breathing. She passed her hand slowly from one breast to the other, taking in the softness of Sam’s skin, the enticing firmness of her nipple beneath her palm, the way her skin looked in contrast to Sam’s, warm on cool, the way Sam’s chest lifted, partially with her breath, partially to push closer.

Cat looked up at her face again, into ocean-dark eyes, watching for a reaction as she lowered her face to Sam’s chest. She saw only eagerness, a slack mouth turning up into a smirk, as Cat placed a kiss on Sam’s breastbone.

Cat took her time, a line of kisses on Sam’s cleavage leading to a path following the swell of one breast, following the curve into a spiral around Sam’s nipple. Sam’s hand was back on her head, gently stroking her hair in encouragement, as Cat gradually forged her own path to her destination, and gently placed a kiss on Sam’s nipple.

It was hardly anything, but Sam moaned shakily, fingers tightening in Cat’s hair. Cat could hardly hear it with the way her blood pounded in her ears, like a rushing waterfall of desire flooding her brain. And yet all she really knew was that she was ready to do this, ready to learn what else she could do with Sam’s body to make her feel good.

And there was something especially exciting and _intimate_ about putting her mouth on Sam’s body. She already knew that her lips on Sam’s neck could literally make her knees weak if they were standing. And now, as she carefully drew Sam’s nipple into her mouth, she felt an almost overwhelming surge of elation, which only grew as she moved her tongue, drawing a desperate moan out of Sam.

Cat had space and time to explore Sam’s bare chest, her mouth and hands mapping her flesh, learning which spots and what kind of sensation produced the strongest reactions in Sam until her girlfriend was squirming beneath her, flushed and breathless, fingers fisted into Cat’s hair. Cat eased back, recognizing that perhaps this was having a particularly strong effect on Sam, one that would make it difficult not to take things further it was openly acknowledged. Instead, she kissed Sam, trying to bring them back to something of a baseline.

She felt Sam’s hands on her skin, beneath her shirt, and Cat was coaxed back to sitting on the sofa as Sam lifted her shirt above her chest in one eager motion, eyes feasting on the skin of her stomach and her breasts beneath her bra. She could _feel_ the hunger in Sam’s eyes echoing in her heart as one of Sam’s hands ran over her stomach and side before moving up to her breasts.

Sam’s touch was like a live-wire, jolting through Cat’s skin, especially when her fingers dipped inside the cup of Cat’s bra to deliberately roll over her nipple. She moved to straddle Cat’s lap, giving herself greater access to her breasts. Cat knew _so much_ of this was new to them both, that Sam really hadn’t had the time or privacy to let someone take their time with her upper body like Cat had, and _no one_ had touched Cat like this, ever. It was so much more intense than she’d expected it to be, leaving her leaning against the back of the couch and gasping between whimpers as Sam’s hands moved over and under her bra.

Until Cat decided she wanted more, and leaned forward enough to reach behind her to unhook her bra. Sam seemed utterly shocked as Cat’s bra loosened and fell into her hands, though she’d had to adjust her position to accommodate Cat reaching behind her. She stared slack-jawed for a moment, before looking up at Cat wordlessly.

“Seemed like it was in the way,” Cat managed coyly.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, seeming to take a moment to collect herself. The bra straps were still on Cat’s shoulders, and unless her shirt came off, which she was still keeping as a boundary, the bra was staying on her body. But it didn’t stop Sam from pushing the loose garment up past Cat’s breasts, where it joined her shirt, and then Sam’s hands were on her bare breasts.

And Sam’s mouth followed quickly.

Cat couldn’t do much but drown in sensation as she felt the warmth and wetness of Sam’s lips and tongue press reckless kisses all over her chest, feeling her body grow hot with every sweep of sensation over her nipples. She grabbed onto Sam, seeking connection as Sam had done, hands on the bare skin of her sides exposed with her shirt still partially hiked up. Cat was usually good at being quiet, but it was much harder when Sam was touching her. It had been since they really started making out, not just kissing, and a chorus of throaty sounds filled her mouth, resonating with the satisfied sounds Sam muffled into her chest. Cat focused on bringing her hands up Sam’s body to touch her breasts again, hoping to anchor herself so she didn’t get swept away by the desire that was filling her, and soon found herself kissing Sam fervently, her hands on her breasts, and she had the presence of mind to slow them back down, moving her hands somewhere less intimate, letting their kisses fade until Sam’s forehead rested against hers and she sighed contentedly.

Dinner hadn’t been that long ago, but Cat knew what to do. “I’m going to make you a sandwich,” she told Sam.

Sam grinned fully, “Yeah?” She nodded to herself, then got up off the sofa on legs that seemed to be trembling slightly. “I’m gonna go take a...quick shower,” she mumbled.

Cat couldn’t help the sly smile she returned. “Alright. Have fun with that.”

“Uh huh. Oh, I will,” Sam replied.

Cat let herself consider the reality of Sam escaping to the bathroom, stripping down just to stand under the hot spray and...take care of herself. It momentarily distracted her as she began to pull out ingredients from the fridge to make Sam’s sandwich, and she lingered in front of the open fridge, eyes closed, lip tucked between her teeth as she let the mental image play out. She was _so curious_ about what Sam would look like, having an orgasm. What she would _sound_ like. What it would _feel_ like to be able to give her _that much pleasure_ …

They would get there. Even though it was agonizing sometimes, Cat was enjoying taking things at her own pace. So for now, she pulled out sandwich ingredients, and tucked away all the mental images and residual arousal from earlier, knowing she would be coming back to them in her bed that night, with Sam snoring away across the room.

Being in control of things like that made Cat feel better, and it wasn’t a feeling she was used to. She was glad to be past the phase of her life defined by “special vitamins” and no one seeming to know what she was talking about.

Except Sam. Sam always seemed willing to go along with whatever Cat had said, even back then. The memory of it made her smile, and she dwelled on that love as she made Sam a sandwich.

-

Sam was enjoying her makeshift art studio. She thought, and not for the first time, that Lanelle was probably onto something. Between painting, spending time with Cat, and working with Dice, Sam didn’t have time to get bored as Christmas drew closer. Boredom was like a constant companion to Sam, the reason she couldn’t focus in school and the reason so much of her time was taken up by relatively mundane things like watching TV (which, she couldn’t really regret that in any capacity, TV was awesome). But there came with painting a particular sense of accomplishment that made Sam wonder why she didn’t do this more often.

Procrastination was another constant in Sam’s life, and some years she’d scrambled to buy a Christmas gift for Carly at the last minute, maybe grabbing something for Freddie, too, if she happened to see anything. She was good at gifts. She usually thought a lot about them but it took a while to actually go and _buy_ them. It was why it hadn’t been that hard to buy Yay Day gifts in an afternoon when Cat invented the holiday. She was used to the pressure.

And if she was honest, she’d already been keeping a mental list of possible presents for Cat for a long time.

Having to make gifts was a little different. She had to spend the time on them, and starting less than a week before Christmas was already pushing it. But once she got started, she liked the idea of making a painting for each of the friends she’d made in LA.

She’d probably make one for Carly, too, though there was no way to be sure how she would get it to her. But Carly was someone she would always think of when it came to the holidays, because for a long time, Carly was the only bright spot about them for Sam.

Sam spent several days working on her paintings, occasionally deciding she was dissatisfied halfway through and starting over. Cat’s was conceptually easy, though it also took the longest and the most of Sam’s time and effort. Carly’s was pretty easy, too, though not knowing when and how she might be able to send it to her friend made it Sam’s last priority. Dice and Goomer didn’t take long, but Sam struggled a little with Tori’s and Jade’s paintings (Tori because they weren’t that close, and Jade because she was someone who seemed to have a very specific aesthetic that she enjoyed that Sam wasn’t sure she could match). She even painted something for Nona, and that might have been the hardest one of all, because the saccharine style Sam strived for with that one was very much outside her wheelhouse.

It was good that Sam had the time to work on her art over the weekend, because starting on Monday, two days before Christmas, she and Cat had a lot of holiday plans.

Monday during the day was like almost any other day. She and Dice made some sales, Cat made a late lunch, and then it was time to head to Tori’s Christmas party. Her parents were apparently out of town until the next night, so Tori was allowed to host the party. And, because cannabis was going to be offered at the gathering, Sam and Cat were intending to stay the night so that Sam could indulge.

As they packed up Sam’s black and red plaid checkered backpack with overnight toiletries, pajamas, and clean clothes for the morning, Cat said thoughtfully, “You know, I think I might want to try it.”

“Try what?” Sam asked, focused on rolling her pajama pants up as tight as she could to cram them in the bag next to her t-shirt.

Cat carefully folded her candy pajamas and added them to the neat little pile of clothes she was waiting to place on top in the backpack. “The weed,” she replied, in almost a whisper.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, smiling a little.

“Why not?” Cat shrugged, “You guys seem to like it. I’m curious about it. And tonight I’ll be safe with my friends and we won’t have to go anywhere. I’ve been kind of thinking about it since Halloween, anyway.”

“Is it safe, though?” Sam asked as it occurred to her, “With your medication, I mean?”

“I meant to ask Dr. Russ last month but I forgot. I did ask Dr. Penny, though. She said she couldn’t really recommend it, especially since she’s not the one prescribing my meds, but that it wasn’t dangerous. The worst it might do is make the effects of my medicine stronger, so I should go easy if I want to try it. And I _do_ want to try it.”

“Then you definitely should,” Sam encouraged. “I’m kinda looking forward to it, myself.”

Cat smiled at her, “I think it’ll be fun to be high with you,” she giggled.

Sam smirked back, thinking about the things they’d been exploring lately, and okay, they probably wouldn’t have a chance to do _that_ at Tori’s, but maybe they could slip away to make out at some point while high. “Oh, I think I’ll like that a _lot_ ,” she assured Cat.

And before too long, Sam found out what high Cat was like.

Tori’s party was in full swing. There wasn’t alcohol; Tori explained that she’d been able to get her parents to cooperate with that for a New Years party last year, but that her mom forbade any kind of gathering mixing alcohol and weed, and they could acquire weed legally. But there was a lot of food, and once everyone arrived and started settling in, it was time to break out the cannabis.

“Would anyone like to partake?” Andre offered the room.

Robbie declined, as expected. Beck stood up eagerly, along with Sam, but everyone looked surprised when Cat stood up, too.

“You want to smoke with us?” Tori asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Cat replied, “I’m curious.” She looked to Robbie and asked sincerely, “Will you be okay being the only one here who isn’t high?”

Robbie smiled in response, though it was a little weak. “Absolutely,” he assured her, and his tone sounded genuine. Still, Sam could tell that he was as hesitant as anyone else to watch Cat get high.

Sam had gotten the sense, both from observing Cat with her friends and listening to Cat talk about them, that they tended to underestimate her. It irritated her. Cat wasn’t a child; hell, if it weren’t for Cat, Sam would hardly be able to get anywhere on time. And if Cat wanted to get high, that was her decision. Sam wrapped a reassuring arm around Cat’s shoulder, which made Cat beam at her.

They all headed outside onto the patio; even Robbie came out to stand a few feet away, clearly not seeing the point of sitting inside by himself. Andre, Tori, and Jade were comparing who had what to offer, and Andre showed off a little glass pipe he said he’d gotten recently. And, under the outdoor lights and seated at the Vega family’s patio table, Andre took a bit of all the weed that was offered, tore it up with his fingers, and packed it into his pipe. He offered it to Tori first, “Here, take green.”

Tori looked pleased, but held the pipe a little awkwardly. “How do I use this?” she asked, “I’ve only smoked joints so far,” she explained.

“You’ve got to cover the carb while you’re lighting it and breathing in,” Beck supplied, pointing to a hole on the side of the bowl, “Then let it go and suck out the rest of the smoke.”

Sam was glad for the explanation, and knew she and Cat were both watching keenly as Tori took the first hit, following Beck’s advice as best she could, though Sam could see there was still smoke swirling in the length of the pipe as Tori coughed into her elbow, passing the pipe to Jade next to her. “That’s good,” Tori managed through a strained throat.

When Jade passed it to Sam, Andre suggested, “You two might want to take it easy.”

Sam knew he was probably right, though she chafed a little at the advice. Still, though she tried to take a light hit, there was so much smoke left in the chamber that by the time she sucked it all in, she realized she hadn’t really gone easy. After she finished coughing, she told Cat in a papery voice, “Okay, I _tried_ to take a small hit, but it didn’t work so... _really_ go light.”

“Might not even have to light it if it’s still cherry,” Andre put in.

“He means it’s still burning,” Beck explained.

Cat apparently took their advice, because she didn’t light the lighter at all, just held the pipe and inhaled. The bud flared to life in the bowl and Sam could see the smoke flowing into Cat’s mouth as she sucked in. She didn’t seem to take a big hit--there was still smoke left in the pipe when she passed it to Beck--but she must’ve gotten something, with the way she coughed, hanging onto Sam for balance. “Oh my god it burns,” Cat choked out.

“You get used to it,” Jade drawled scratchily, watching Cat keenly. 

Indeed, everyone seemed to have their eyes on her, which was unusual only in that beforehand, people mostly watched the bowl. Beck took his own hit with barely any fanfare and told Andre, “This piece hits so smooth,” as he passed it to him. 

Andre poked at the weed in the bowl with the bottom of his lighter. “Probably a good couple of hits left and then I can repack if y’all want,” he said, taking what looked like a hefty drag.

Indeed, the piece made it to Jade, who drew an almost nonexistent amount of smoke out of what was left and shook her head, passing the pipe back to Andre, who got to work packing another bowl. Jade turned to look at Sam, eyes already looking heavy-lidded and red. “You going to want more?” she asked her.

“I think so,” Sam replied. Though Andre’s piece hit differently than the joint Tori had rolled for Halloween, Sam was pretty sure she’d smoked more that night. She could probably handle a little more. She and Jade both turned to Cat. “What about you, babe?” Sam asked.

Cat was looking around at everyone, blinking a lot. “I don’t know,” she replied slowly.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Tori offered Cat an out.

“You can always stop now and have more later if you want,” Beck agreed.

Maybe it was because she had everyone’s attention now, but Cat gave Sam a helpless look. Sam rubbed her back reassuringly. Finally, Cat said, “I think I’m good for now. I’ll see how I feel later.” She glanced around the circle again, “I think I’m going to go stand with Robbie.” And with that, she wandered off toward him.

The pipe made it around so that everyone other than Cat got a third hit before it was empty again, but they each seemed to agree that they were good, for now. They all headed back into the house, where Sam gravitated toward the food, along with the rest of the stoners. Cat, however, walked very purposefully to the couch, where she sat down stiffly, apparently staring at the TV that was off. Robbie followed and sat next to her.

Sam wasn’t ignoring Cat; she was keeping an eye on her, but she was also pretty focused on the chips and dip on the kitchen island. Robbie, however, got up from the couch a moment later and got a bottle of Crystal Waters out of the fridge. “Cat says she’s thirsty,” he explained.

“Oh, fuck, I’m thirsty, too,” Sam realized.

Wordlessly, Jade passed her a bottle of Blue Dog Soda, as if she’d just been waiting for Sam to realize she wanted it. Sam popped it open and took a gulp, then followed with more chips. But she started to wonder why Cat wasn’t hungry.

“Cat, don’t you want some chips?” she asked through her next mouthful. Seriously, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop eating them. 

Cat turned her head to look at her, looking very forlorn, but she didn’t say anything.

“You okay?” Sam asked her, meeting her eyes. 

Cat merely shrugged.

That was enough for Sam to tear herself away from the dish of chips and head over to the couch, sitting on Cat’s other side. “Hey,” she said quietly, “What’s up?”

“I don’t know,” Cat finally spoke quietly, “I just feel... _really_ weird.”

A helpless laugh escaped Sam. “Yeah, me too, but…” she scrutinized Cat, “You don’t look like you’re having a good time with it.”

“Not really,” Cat whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Sam looked at Robbie, who held up his hands defensively, “She’s been saying she felt weird since she came to stand with me outside.”

Sam felt a small thrum of anxiety as worry for Cat took root in her chest. It felt cold, gnarled, but also, she was feeling the effect of the weed herself, and that was like warmth in her stomach, tingles of joy on her skin. It was able to quell her worry as she placed a hand on Cat’s back. “Hey, you’re gonna be alright,” she assured Cat.

Cat shook with a violent tremor for a moment, and Sam realized that she was still shivering slightly even afterwards; she could feel it under her hand, even if she couldn’t tell by looking at Cat. “I just...can _feel_ everything happening in my body. And my brain won’t stop.” She turned slowly on the couch and melted into Sam’s arms.

Robbie patted her back, “Hey, you’re alright,” he soothed. Cat just squeezed onto her tighter.

“I think I’m gonna need some backup,” Sam told Robbie.

He nodded and rose from the couch, “I’ll get the others.”

Sam held Cat, kissing her head. “I hate this,” Cat moaned softly, “I feel like I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” Sam assured her. Jade sat next to her on the couch, and Sam shot her a look. “Right, Jade?”

“You’re not dying, Cat,” Jade said in a voice about as soothing as she could manage through the husk of her scratchy throat. She reached over and began stroking Cat’s back. She frowned, slightly. “Want to touch my hair?” she offered. Jade had recently had her undercut touched up, the hairstyle she’d gotten a couple of months ago.

“Yeah,” Cat murmured, shifting on Sam’s lap to reach over and stroke her fingers over the buzzed hair on the side of Jade’s head. “It’s so fuzzy,” she whispered, “It’s nice.”

“Yeah, just keep doing that,” Jade’s eyes were closed and she wore a lazy grin. “Maybe Sam should cut her hair like this,” she suggested, “Since you like it so much.”

“Eh, seems like a lot of work,” Sam dismissed.

“It’s literally just a haircut,” Jade scoffed.

“I like Sam’s hair,” Cat murmured, fingers still smoothing over Jade’s scalp. It lasted a few minutes before Cat began shifting in Sam’s arms, moving to lie down across both her lap and Jade’s. Jade shot Sam an uncertain glance and moved her hand to continue rubbing circles on Cat’s lower back, while Sam ran her fingers through Cat’s hair.

Sam would’ve thought that maybe Tori would join them, too, but it was Beck who came over and slid under Cat’s legs to sit on Jade’s other side. Jade shot him an uncertain glance. “Hey,” he said in a mild tone, “I heard someone’s not having a good time,” he patted Cat’s ankle.

“No,” Cat shivered, pressing her face into Sam’s belly. “My brain keeps spiraling and my heart is going to beat too fast and kill me,” she explained.

Beck just nodded, looking unsurprised and unconcerned. “Hey, that happens sometimes,” he said casually, “The first time I smoked with Sinjin, he reacted badly, but once he came down a little, he felt pretty good. You just have to give it time.”

“Wait,” Jade said slowly, “When did you smoke with _Sinjin_?”

“After we went to a race together,” Beck explained.

“Right,” Jade rolled her eyes, “I forgot you befriended that freak.”

“He’s really not so bad,” Beck shrugged.

“Wait, who is this guy?” Sam wanted to know.

“This complete weirdo who went to school with us,” Jade replied, “He was always obsessed with Tori and me.”

“Well, he liked you for a while,” Beck explained, while Jade made a disgusted sound, “But he was always really happy and supportive of you and Tori.”

“He was not,” Jade scoffed, “He was just a perv.”

“No, he was,” Cat said faintly, half muffled against Sam’s shirt. She rolled her head just enough to gaze at Jade with one eye. “Even back when you two were sneaking around, he was hoping you’d figure it out.”

Jade flushed bright red, “What do you mean, when we were sneaking around,” she mumbled evasively.

“Hey, we’re _all_ happy for you,” Beck said simply, giving Jade an out, “But Cat, this is making me think of the first time I got high with Andre.”

“Oh, god, if you’re going to tell this story, we need a snack. Robbie!” shouted Jade, “Bring us those chips!”

Sam’s hands were somewhat occupied, one under Cat’s head to help support her, the other stroking her hair. “I’m not getting chip grease in Cat’s hair, so you’re feeding me,” Sam commanded.

“You are _ridiculous_ ,” Jade said fiercely, but she held a chip out in front of Sam’s face.

Tori apparently had come over with Robbie. “Is Cat okay?” she asked.

“No,” Cat murmured miserably.

“She will be,” Beck intoned reassuringly.

Tori watched as Jade fed another chip to Sam. “You never feed _me_ chips,” she commented playfully.

“Come here,” Jade said, her voice sounding all the more sultry from the smoking she’d done.

Smirking, Tori approached the couch and leaned over them, only to have Jade shove a handful of chips against her mouth. “ _Jade_!” She glared.

Jade laughed, “Oh, you know I love you.”

“ _Anyway_ , as I was saying,” Beck began, then launched into a long story, patting Cat’s ankle reassuringly as he talked. And talked. Granted, Sam didn’t know Beck that well, but this was certainly the most she’d ever heard him talk.

Meanwhile, Tori, Andre, and Robbie had drifted over to the piano by the stairs and were beginning to pluck out tunes. As Beck droned on and on, Sam heard Tori suggest that maybe they should smoke a little more “So we can write the _best_ song ever!” Andre was game, so they headed outside with Robbie. Sam glanced at Jade, who looked like maybe she’d much rather be outside smoking more than sitting here listening to Beck, but they both glanced at Cat, and seemed resolved to stay there.

Especially since Sam was pretty sure Cat had fallen asleep on their laps.

Luckily, Andre, Tori, and Robbie came back inside before too long. Sam was having trouble paying attention to Beck’s accounts of the many times he got stoned in high school, even though Jade offered a few asides regarding the times she had been there, too. She figured it might be easier to pay attention to whatever music the others were going to try to compose.

Except whatever they decided to play involved Andre hitting the same three notes on the piano, over and over, rhythmically, while Tori and Robbie clumsily improvised lyrics. At least Tori had the excuse of being high, but Sam thought that Robbie should be better at this, considering the rap battle she’d competed in against Rex. But maybe without the veneer of the puppet, Robbie was struggling.

All in all, it was pretty okay though. Sam just let her mind drift as she enjoyed the relaxed feeling in her body, as she continued stroking Cat’s hair. Cat’s hair was _soft_ , and she smiled down at the girl sleeping in her lap. Along with all the calm euphoria of the weed came a wave of what felt like intensified love when she looked at Cat. How was she so goddamn _lucky_?

She and Jade had long finished the chips, and Beck had moved the empty giant bowl down next to his feet. He was _still talking_. There was still terrible music playing while Tori and Andre complemented their own sheer genius and Robbie seemed happy to agree. Jade’s head was tilted back against the back of the couch as if she might fall asleep, though she was still absently petting Cat’s back.

And eventually, after what felt like hours, Cat stirred on their laps, turning enough to open both her eyes to blink up at Sam. A subdued smile appeared on her face.

“Hey,” Sam greeted, “How’re you feeling?”

“Terrible,” Cat whispered, like she thought someone might overhear them who shouldn’t. She looked down her body at Jade and Beck. “You guys are still here?”

Jade opened her eyes and gazed at Cat, “Yep. You back with us now?”

“I guess I feel a little better,” Cat mumbled, carefully sliding off their laps.

“Good,” Jade stood up, “Because I want more weed.”

“Oh, hey, that sounds good,” Beck stood up himself, then eyed Sam with a genial expression. “You want any more?” he asked.

Sam turned to Cat, “You alright if I do?”

Cat shrugged, looking distraught. “I miss your warmth. I can’t stop shaking.”

“You can come stand with me,” Sam offered. Cat looked uncertain, so she suggested, “Or maybe Robbie can hug you?”

Cat gazed over at him uncertainly and ultimately followed them outside. Evidently, Tori and Andre hadn’t smoked an entire bowl on their own, so Andre directed Beck to where it was sitting, still half full of weed, and Beck carried it outside after them.

They managed to get a couple of hits each out of what was left in the bowl, and Cat stayed tucked up against Sam’s side quietly as the other three smoked. By the time they went back inside, Sam was back to feeling _good_ , and also, even more hungry. Tori seemed to anticipate this, however, because before long, late night pizza arrived.

Poor Cat could barely eat any pizza, claiming her stomach was in knots, but she stayed close to Sam, anyway. Conversation flowed in disjointed directions as they sat around and ate, though Sam was mostly focused on Cat and her pizza. But it seemed almost everybody was contributing to the writing of the song that had been happening all evening.

Performing arts school kids were _weird_.

After dinner, though, Robbie patted Beck’s knee. “You about ready to head home?”

Beck sighed and slumped in exaggerated disappointment. “Yeah, I guess so,” he grumbled.

“Look at you with the emoting,” Jade snarked.

“I’m not _emoting_ ,” Beck frowned, “Just bummed to be leaving. But my family is catching an early flight tomorrow and I still have to pack.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“It is,” Beck stood up and reached over to hug Tori, “Thanks for the invitation, this was really great,” he told her.

“I’m just glad you were able to make it!” Tori replied.

Robbie was also circling the room, offering hugs and goodbyes of his own, apparently intending to go home after dropping off Beck. And then, there were only the four girls and Andre left, tucked together on the couches, reluctant to move.

-

Cat was starting to come down a bit from the weed, she thought. She certainly felt less panicked than she had earlier, when all she could do was focus on the tension in her body, the way she felt like she couldn’t get her muscles to unlock, the way she could feel her heart pounding, her stomach churning, the way she felt cold all over. She tried to tell herself she was safe and warm, but even those words, meant to be comforting, just looped continuously in her brain so that she couldn’t shut them off, which only made her feel _more_ out of control.

She hated it so much. At least when she got inside, she ended up with a few ways to ground herself. Sam, first of all. Sam couldn’t make the feelings stop, but just her presence made Cat feel safer. And when she stretched out on her friends’ laps, the comfort of their hands on her, the reassuring motions, helped. So did Beck telling stories. Even if Cat couldn’t focus completely on what he was saying, the consistency and the rhythm of his voice grounded her. As did the music playing in the background, though Cat could tell even through the haze in her brain that it was mostly ridiculous, the mirthful nature of it helped.

Now, they were all on the couch together. While she was coming down, everyone else had consumed more, and it seemed no one had the energy to do much more beyond half watching cartoons and idly talking. Cat still felt terrible, certain that the horrible feelings of being high were going to resurface, and stayed close to Sam, who was mostly concerned with eating any and all pizza that hadn’t already been consumed. She was at least able to pay more attention to the conversations happening around her now, even laughing a little bit at some of what was said.

Like when Jade said out of nowhere, “You know what I just realized?”

“What?” Tori asked, grinning at her goofily.

“I just realized that, for as creepy as he was, Sinjin was actually an _artist_. Like. He had _vision_ ,” Jade gushed. “ _So much more_ than Beck ever had. Like, ‘The Blonde Squad’? Embarrassing. But as gross as that short film Sinjin made about being a can of soda was, it had _perspective_. It was unique. He was _saying something_.” Jade was wide-eyed, staring at the people around her, voice taking on a revelatory pitch. “Sinjin has the soul of a true artist,” she murmured.

“You know,” Andre said thoughtfully, “You’re not _wrong_.”

“I always thought he was more creative than anyone gave him credit for,” Tori shrugged.

“Sinjin’s not so bad,” Cat offered, which was about as much as she could think of with her brain exhausting itself from running in circles for hours.

“Yeah,” Jade continued, “I’ve got to tell him.”

“Wait,” Tori asked, “What are you doing?”

“Messaging Sinjin on Splashface.”

“Are you sure you--”

“He _needs to know_ , Tori!”

“Hey, Tori,” Andre said, “Listen to this.” And then his phone started playing a synthesized drum beat.

“Ooh!” Tori sat up straighter, obviously forgetting all about what Jade was doing. “Wait, what app is that?”

“Someone could freestyle over that,” Sam observed through her pizza.

“Shit, would you?” Andre sounded eager.

“Eh,” Sam shrugged, “I don’t really like doing stuff.”

“But you’re so good at it,” Cat murmured, nuzzling her cheek. She thought maybe listening to Sam would make her feel better.

A light blush crept over Sam’s face. “Okay, yeah, alright,” she agreed.

They played around with Andre’s synthesizer app while Jade tapped away on her phone. Cat wondered if she should try to dissuade Jade from messaging Sinjin, but she tucked her phone away before too long, and Cat was too enthralled by Sam’s freestyling to really think twice about it.

But as it got later, they got more tired. And the stoners seemed to finally break their couchlock--at least, that’s what Andre called it--to start getting ready for bed.

“Andre’s staying down here on the couch,” Tori reported.

“My alternate bedroom,” Andre patted the couch he was on.

“And we’re all staying upstairs,” Tori began to lead them up there, “In my room.”

“Yay, sleepover!” Cat managed, and they said goodnight to Andre and climbed the stairs.

They all took turns in the bathroom while Tori inflated the air mattress that took up most of her floor space. “Sorry it’s just an air mattress,” she was saying to Sam while Cat dug around in their backpack for what she needed. “My sister moved out but she left her room an absolute wreck, and she’s coming to stay for a couple nights for Christmas and absolutely forbid me letting anyone stay in her room.”

“Hey, it’s cool,” Sam shrugged, “I can sleep anywhere. Usually.”

“She really can,” Cat agreed. “Besides, it’ll be fun to have a sleepover all together.”

“Sure it will,” Jade drawled as she came out of the bathroom, “Just a big old sleepover in Tori’s room.”

Cat sensed that maybe there was a part of Jade that wanted some alone time with Tori. She could understand that, actually. It was a shame Trina had declared her room off-limits. Not that she was feeling _particularly_ sexy right now, but she wondered if Sam’s kisses would be able to fix that.

For now, she was just looking forward to snuggling with Sam until the bad feelings went away.

Which she eventually did, especially after the requisite giggles and chatting that accompanied most sleepovers. She heard Tori and Jade softly kissing goodnight up in Tori’s bed and then shifting and sighing as they cuddled.

She was already tucked up against Sam’s shoulder, arms wrapped around each other. Sam pressed a kiss between her eyebrows, “Goodnight, babe,” she whispered.

Cat squeezed onto her tighter. “I’ll miss you while I’m sleeping,” she murmured. It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d normally say, but after the evening she’d just had, it felt true.

Sam just chuckled, “I’ll be right here,” she promised, and minutes later, she was snoring lightly.

The sound of it lulled Cat to sleep.

Cat woke up to the sound of someone leaving the bedroom. Tori, it seemed, given that Sam was still wrapped around her and she could hear a particularly Jade-like grumbling coming from the bed. Cat allowed herself to doze off in Sam’s arms for a bit longer, sighing contentedly. That was, until Jade began to speak audibly.

“Oh, no,” she mumbled, then a bit louder, “Oh, _no_.”

Sam groaned slightly as she woke up, “What?” she asked blearily.

But before Jade could say anything else, Tori was nudging the ajar door open with her foot, and came in carrying four mugs of what must be coffee, given the scent that reached Cat’s nose. She began to sit up a little.

“ _Tori_ ,” Jade snarled, “ _How_ could you let me do it?” At that, Sam started to sit up herself, looking grouchy but curious.

Tori just blinked at Jade impassively, “Good morning to you, too.” She set the coffee mugs down on her desk and picked one up, passing it to Jade, “How about you have some coffee and then we’ll talk?”

Jade took an immediate gulp of her steaming coffee, fierce blue eyes not leaving Tori’s face. “Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy,” she griped.

Tori ignored her and picked up two more mugs. “I think I remembered you take yours black?” she questioned Sam, who nodded and accepted the mug. “Cat, you don’t have to finish this,” she passed a mug to Cat. The coffee inside was almost the color of sugar cookies. Cat took a sip. It kind of tasted like sugar cookies, too. Cat wasn’t as big of a coffee drinker as the rest of them, but she appreciated being included.

Tori rejoined Jade on the bed with her own cup of coffee, while Cat tucked herself close to Sam, who mutely drank her own coffee, though she wrapped an arm around her. Jade continued to glare at Tori as she held her steaming cup in front of her face, continually drinking from it. In minutes, she set the apparently empty cup aside on her bedside table. “You _let_ me message _Sinjin_?!” she hollered at Tori.

Tori just shrugged, “I tried to warn you.” She smirked, “I should have known you were too high.”

“ _Too_ high?!” Jade rolled her eyes, “Look who’s talking. Maybe you should listen to the ‘songs’ you wrote last night.”

Tori flushed pink. “Okay, maybe we all got a little goofy last night,” she said quickly.

“Speak for yourselves,” Sam finally spoke, in that low morning voice that made Cat grin slowly. “I felt pretty great.”

Jade’s glare smoothed out as her eyes met Cat’s. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

Cat shrugged, taking stock of her body. She thought she was feeling pretty okay, but at Jade’s question, there came a creeping sensation of intense awareness. “I think I’m still high,” she realized. “Oh god,” the words came in a rush, “What if I’m one of those people who just stays high forever?”

“You’re not,” Tori assured her, voice gentle.

“Yeah, because those people _aren’t real_ ,” Jade followed up impatiently. 

“You seriously still feel high?” Sam asked, gazing at her with concern.

“I don’t know,” Cat thought about it again. “I guess I’m okay. I’m probably just freaking myself out.”

“Probably,” Jade said in the same tone, as if this settled it. “I need more coffee.” She thrust her empty coffee cup at Tori.

Tori rolled her eyes. “Then go downstairs and get more. Andre should be awake.”

“Rude,” Jade grumbled, “First you let me humiliate myself in front of _Sinjin_ , and now you’re making me put on a bra before I can have more coffee.”

“I thought we all agreed that Sinjin wasn’t so bad,” Tori defended herself mildly.

“I don’t think Andre will care if you’re not wearing a bra,” Cat put in.

Jade laughed mirthlessly, “Oh, he’ll _care_.”

“Yeah, some of us can’t get away with no bra,” Sam agreed. Cat glanced over and noticed where Sam’s sightline was. A glance at Jade showed she noticed, too, given the tilt of her head and her quirked eyebrow.

“ _Sam_ ,” Cat chided lightly, more amused than anything. Tori looked like she didn’t know whether to be upset or not, and her cheeks were pink.

“Uh, sorry,” Sam blinked and dropped her eyes. “I think I just remembered I had a dream that I motorboated Jade.”

“You _did_?” Cat was fascinated. Jade smirked triumphantly.

At that, Tori’s expression turned to something more amused. “I’ve had that dream,” she revealed.

“Well, if you’re all finished ogling my tits, I’m going into the bathroom so I can get them under control and have more coffee.”

“I don’t know, are we finished?” Sam teased, glancing at Tori.

Cat giggled. Already she was feeling better than she did last night. Tori grinned broadly, seeming to decide that whatever was happening with Sam looking at her girlfriend was harmless. “Oh, I’ll never be done,” Tori spoke like it was a promise.

“You just want me to reenact that dream for you again,” Jade teased, leaning over to press a chaste kiss against Tori’s lips before gathering up her bra and her toiletry bag and disappearing into the bathroom.

“Did you really have that dream?” Cat asked Sam.

“Yeah,” Sam admitted. She was a little pink. “Jade’s not really my type, but I mean…” she gestured to her own chest. “Like. Yeah.”

“Believe me, I get it,” Tori pulled her eyes away from where they’d settled on Sam’s chest when she drew attention to it. “I’d be more upset if you _didn’t_ notice them.”

Cat felt Sam’s arm squeeze around her reassuringly, and she nuzzled her cheek in reciprocation. Cat understood what Tori meant, and she had no doubts that Sam loved her body. Still, she appreciated the affection.

Everyone but Cat had finished their coffee by the time they had all gotten presentable to head downstairs for more; Jade had even waited for everyone else, though she grumbled about it.

They headed downstairs to find Andre sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee of his own. “Hey, good morning,” he greeted them. There were general murmured responses as Jade, Sam and Tori made a beeline for the coffee maker. Cat went to sit next to Andre on the couch.

“I didn’t know you drank coffee,” Cat peered into his cup. It looked like it was light and sweet, like hers.

Andre shrugged, “Not every day. But Tori knows how I like it.”

“Me, too,” Cat grinned, and they clinked their mugs together.

“How are you feeling?” Andre asked her, looking concerned.

“Better,” Cat replied, “I thought I was still high when I woke up, but I think I’m okay.”

Andre nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry your first time was so awful. I feel really bad about it.”

By then, Sam came over to sit by her, while Tori and Jade were in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open, maybe figuring out breakfast. Cat gave Andre a reassuring smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was curious, so I tried it. But now I know that it’s not a good idea for me, and I don’t have to be curious anymore.”

“You could probably try it a few other ways, if you wanted,” Andre began to suggest.

“No, thank you,” Cat replied, “I have no desire to go through _that_ again.”

“And you don’t have to,” Sam said decisively. Andre nodded in acceptance.

“You liked it though,” Cat observed, turning to Sam.

“Sure,” Sam shrugged, “I mean, that kind mostly made me want to eat and not move. The kind we had at Halloween kinda amped me up.”

“Last night was sort of a mix of whatever, but I bet Tori had a sativa on Halloween,” Andre put in.

“It made you sleep really well,” Cat observed, “So that we could actually share the air mattress.”

Sam blinked. “Yeah, that’s a good point. I didn’t kick you out of bed or anything.”

“Sam’s usually a crazy sleeper,” Cat informed Andre. “But I guess being high helped.”

“Definitely makes me sleep really well if it’s the right strain,” Andre agreed.

“Something to keep in mind,” Cat smiled at Sam, who grinned back.

-

“I still don’t really get the point of this,” Sam mumbled.

They were standing in one of the Sunday School classrooms of some church--not even a church Cat had ever attended, which just confused Sam all the more--getting dressed in the oversized robes made out of bed sheets that Bible characters always seemed to wear. Cat came over to adjust Sam’s robes, running an appraising eye over her outfit. “We’re doing it because it’s fun!” she chirped. “Okay, keep this in your robes for now,” she shoved a bundle into Sam’s bedsheet so she could appear pregnant, Sam guessed.

“Okay, but,” Sam tried again, “Like...what’s the _point_ of having real people standing around pretending to be a nativity scene?”

“Well, it looks a lot better than the plastic people,” Cat answered simply.

Sam guessed she couldn’t argue with that. And it was something Cat was particularly interested in doing and had signed them up for, and she wanted Cat to enjoy Christmas. So there they were, on Christmas Eve, dressed as Mary and Joseph, shuffling outside to a large wooden structure along with a bunch of other people wrapped in sheets.

Though there weren’t lines associated with the role, they were supposed to perform specific actions when cued by the narrator, which Sam hadn’t been prepared for. She thought it was mostly going to involve standing around and staring misty-eyed at a fake baby in a manger. She guessed the cues would be obvious to people who had grown up in church, but she really hadn’t, so she glanced over what amounted to a “script” for the production and scrawled her cues down on her arm and kept them covered with her sheet sleeve.

Flood lights lit up the lawn around the open wooden structure representing the barn. At first Sam was confronted by an angel and all she really had to do was pretend to listen to him as the narrator spoke. Religion was _weird_. Soon after that, Sam had to follow Cat as they wandered around on the grass as someone narrated the fact that they couldn’t find a place to stay and had to spend the night in a stable. Then as the floodlights shifted to the other side of the lawn, where an angel came to speak to some shepherds, Cat urged Sam to follow her into the makeshift barn.

“Okay, you have to have the baby while the shepherds are doing their part,” Cat hissed quietly.

Sam grunted and fumbled with the bundle hidden in her robes. She pulled out a soft object wrapped up in--you guessed it, even more sheets--and turned it over. Her mouth dropped open. “Cat,” she whispered back, “This is Mr. Purple.”

“Tonight, he’s the baby Jesus, the savior of mankind,” Cat murmured back loftily, “Put him in the manger, hurry!”

“Okay, okay, sheesh,” Sam grumbled, dropping Mr. Purple in among the hay. Cat shot her an impatient look and arranged him more precisely in the manger. Sam checked her arm. The shepherds and assorted sheep and goats were going to show up soon, which meant the barn would be all lit up. She got into position next to the manger, gazing down at the stuffed giraffe as lovingly as possible. It actually helped that it was Mr. Purple. At least she could smile at him. A fake baby would probably make her grimace.

The shepherds all crowded into the stable, along with a couple of livestock that seemed content to munch on the hay that scattered the floor or on people’s costumes. Sam had to gently nudge away a goat that was getting too friendly; unlike Murf, some goats didn’t have manners. But after the shepherds ooh’d and aah’d at the baby Jesus (some exchanging very confused looks as they did so), they left the barn to stand around outside of it, thankfully taking their animals with them.

“Maybe we should have warned them what the baby was gonna look like,” Sam whispered to Cat.

“Shhh,” Cat shushed her, “Pick up the baby Jesus and hold him.”

“Oh, right,” Sam picked up the Mr. Purple bundle and held him the way she’d seen Cat handle the babies they’d babysat. Babies really weren’t Sam’s thing, but it wasn’t that difficult to pretend. As the narrator droned on, she reflected that a lot of the performing she did on _iCarly_ was loosely scripted, with she and Carly free to play in the moment a lot of the time. She thought this would be a lot more fun if there was room for improvisation. Cat switching out the baby Jesus was already making this far more interesting. Sam wondered if this would feel cooler if she’d seen this kind of thing growing up, if playing Mary actually meant something to her. As it was, it was kind of cool to be doing something with Cat. Even if it was, like, basically pretending to do their regular babysitting stuff but outside.

-

Sam was apparently lost in her thoughts, because she didn’t even acknowledge the three Wise Men who were standing in front of her. “Sam,” Cat said through her teeth, “Put the baby down, we’re getting gifts.”

Sam blinked and set down Mr. Purple immediately, turning to the Wise Men, who put down their prop gifts and then knelt down on the hay to worship the stuffed animal in the basket. This was something Cat actually found kind of strange about these Christmas pageants and nativity scenes. Wasn’t a pretend doll an idol, even if it was supposed to represent the baby Jesus? It was part of why she’d wanted to switch it out for Mr. Purple. Not only because she knew it would make Sam smile, but because it didn’t really matter what the stand in was for the baby, so why not make it something Cat adored?

Outside, the shepherds all started singing a hymn. The third Wise Man, the one nearest Sam, was actually Meredith, which Cat already knew. But from the way Sam did a double-take, it was news to her. “Hey,” Sam whispered, “Did you bring any of those cupcakes with your gift?”

Meredith lifted her head to grin up at Sam, “No, just myrrh,” she said regretfully, “You know, you could come to my dad’s cupcake shop after this,” she offered, her tone coy.

“Wow, that sounds great,” Sam said immediately. Cat frowned. Maybe Sam hadn’t picked up on the flirtatious tone, but...how could she _not_? Most likely, Sam just heard cupcakes and opted in immediately. And who could blame her? Meredith’s father’s cupcakes were amazing.

But still, Cat didn’t like it. She was, okay, _jealous_. Jealous because Sam and Meredith had a history, however brief it was. Jealous because Meredith still seemed attracted to Sam. Jealous because they were in the middle of a living nativity scene and she couldn’t just jump up and kiss Sam to prove a point. She caught herself glaring daggers at Meredith for a moment before she stopped, turning her attention back to Mr. Purple, discreetly looking up at Sam through her lashes.

As far as she could tell, Sam didn’t even glance at her, so Cat had no idea if Sam had read her mood or not, but she heard Sam murmur, “Can I bring Cat, too? She’s my girlfriend now.”

Meredith glanced at Cat with a grin that Cat swore was forced, but she said, “Absolutely, that sounds great!”

Okay. So they were both going. Sam wasn’t about to wander off with some girl who was into her and forget all about Cat. Not that she thought Sam would. It was also nice that she hadn’t even had to prompt Sam to tell Meredith about their relationship. From listening to Jade gripe about Beck for years, she knew that Beck passive nonchalance about their relationship status had driven her crazy. Cat had merely had a taste of it, for a few seconds, and that was enough.

She hated feeling jealous. She tried to set it aside, but it smoldered inside of her.

She wondered if Joseph was jealous of the baby Jesus.

-

They didn’t linger at Meredith’s cupcake shop. Sam could sense that Cat felt weird about it, which she guessed she understood. She thought Meredith might’ve been hitting on her, though it was hard to tell, because Meredith had always acted the same since she met her. Cat had responded with interest when she’d heard about Sam and Meredith hooking up, but maybe seeing them together was a little much. When Sam tried to ask her about it, Cat had insisted everything was fine, so Sam dropped it. It was Christmas Eve, and all they both really wanted to do was enjoy the holiday together.

That night, Nona stayed over on the couch in their apartment. Though Sam had spent Christmas with Cat and Nona last year, apparently this year, Nona wanted to give them the “full Christmas experience,” whatever that meant. It involved her staying over, so Sam was happy to get her set up on the couch, and she ate some canned ham before going into the bedroom. Cat was sleepy, but excited about Christmas, and they snuggled in Cat’s bed until Cat fell asleep and Sam carefully untangled herself from Cat’s embrace to sleep in her own bed.

Sam woke up to Cat prancing around the room, excitedly shouting, “It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!”

Sam burrowed back into her pillows, “Why?” she mumbled. But then she lifted her head. “Do I smell bacon?”

“Come on!” Cat reached for her hands to try to pull her out of bed. Sam reluctantly let herself be dragged off of her mattress, finding herself in Cat’s arms. Cat grinned at her, “Merry Christmas?” she greeted Sam with a chaste good morning kiss.

Sam kissed her back, lips twitching into a smile, but still waking up. “Seriously, why do I smell bacon?”

“Let’s go see!” Cat batted her eyes coquettishly and pulled Sam by her hands toward the bedroom door. 

Sam already felt more awake, and grinned helplessly as she got led to the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks, tugging Cat back against her automatically, when she caught sight of the multiple platters stacked with breakfast foods on the kitchen island.

It took her a moment to even notice Nona, “Oh, hi!” the older woman trilled cheerfully, “Merry Christmas!”

“Is this for me?” Sam mumbled, thunderstruck, staring at all the delicious food, breathing in the scent of it all.

Cat giggled, and Nona smiled warmly and explained, “It’s for all of us. This is how the Valentines do Christmas.” She waved her hand with a flourish, “It’s also my Christmas present to you both.”

“And this year, you’re part of the family,” Cat chirped, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Sam knew she was tearing up, though she told herself it was from the beautiful spread of food. She wiped at her face as discreetly as she could. “This is the best Christmas ever,” she said earnestly.

After an enormous breakfast, she and Cat exchanged gifts while Nona insisted on putting away the food Sam hadn’t managed to eat. Sam unwrapped the most beautiful leather jacket she’d ever seen, courtesy of Cat. “Damn,” she breathed, lifting it out of the box. “Cat, did you _make_ this?” she asked in awe.

“Sort of,” Cat replied, “I modified it for you.”

“It’s amazing,” she said earnestly, “Thank you.” She pulled it on over her pajama top, eager to wear it right away. It was the best gesture she could think of, because she knew if she kept talking about how much she loved receiving a really meaningful gift from Cat, that she might get emotional. And she’d already expended all her emotions on a heaping plate of Nona’s cooking that morning.

“Can I open yours?” Cat asked, clearly holding herself back from tearing into the package.

Sam chuckled, tempted to make Cat wait, but she also knew she could never really make Cat wait for anything that would make her happy. “Go ahead,” she prompted.

Cat, despite her eagerness, unwrapped the package carefully, like those people Sam never understood who liked to save wrapping paper (seriously, even as poor as she’d grown up, that was never something she saw value in keeping). Sam drummed her fingers, more in excitement than impatience, watching eagerly for Cat’s reaction.

Cat’s mouth dropped open as she let the wrapping paper fall away to the floor, and she stared at the blank back of the canvas. “Turn it around,” Sam urged.

“You mean there’s _more_?” Cat asked, astonished.

“Yeah there’s more,” Sam grinned, “I didn’t get you a blank canvas.”

Cat turned it over and shrieked. “Oh my god! _Sam!_ ” Her mouth hung open; she was apparently speechless.

“Do you like it?” Sam asked.

“I _love_ it! It’s Mr. Purple!” Cat turned to show Sam the canvas unnecessarily.

“I know!” Sam laughed. 

“He’s drinking a fancy drink with an umbrella, he’s waterskiing, he’s reading a book on the beach, he’s swimming, he’s sunbathing!” 

Indeed, Sam had painted Mr. Purple in a few various scenarios on the canvas, the edges of the scenes blurring and separated by subtle blank gaps. “Yeah, you always said Mr. Purple wanted to take a real vacation, so...I sent him away on an island trip!”

“You mean to Hawaii?” Cat asked, mispronouncing it as she always did.

“Yeah, could be Hawaii,” Sam agreed, “But he’s having a great time.”

“He sure is,” Cat agreed, turning the canvas around to stare at it adoringly.

Nona came over from the kitchen, “What did you girls get? Oh, Sam, what a nice jacket! Cat, what do you have?”

“Sam gave me this amazing painting!” Cat gushed, turning it to show Nona.

Nona hummed, impressed, “You painted that, Sam?” she asked.

“I...have something for you, too,” Sam told Nona, handing her a smaller present than Cat’s.

Nona unwrapped her own gift, hand flying to her heart. “My goodness! I _love_ it!”

“Let me see!” Cat demanded, gasping when she saw it. “Sam! You’re so talented,” she threw herself at her girlfriend.

“It’s really not a big deal,” Sam grinned bashfully. For Nona, she’d done a little painting of some wildflowers, but the center of each flower was a meatball. Still, you had to look close to notice it. Sam had a feeling if Nona ever did, she would be amused by it.

“Here, open mine!” Cat pushed a present toward Nona, but at that moment, Sam’s phone started ringing in her pocket.

“It’s my sister,” she reported, looking at the screen, “Better take it.” She stood up and began walking back toward the bedroom as she answered the call. “Hey, Melanie.”

“Hi, Sam. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” Sam replied with a light laugh. “How is Christmas in Vermont?”

“Cold,” Melanie replied evenly, “It snowed a little bit last night, too.”

“A white Christmas,” Sam mused.

“How about in California?”

“Uh, sunny. Probably gonna be 80 degrees out today.”

“Yikes,” commented Melanie, “Can’t imagine.”

“You get used to it,” Sam replied. 

“You get used to snow, too,” Melanie countered. 

There was a lull in the conversation for a moment. That was sometimes how it was with Sam and her sister. They were _so different_. Sam remembered what Lanelle had pointed out, how’d they’d both fled to the furthest corners of the country to get out of Seattle and away from their home life. Melanie had lived in the northeast since they were kids; she’d been raised by boarding school more than anything else. And Sam was...well, Sam was the child that their mother predicted would end up just like her.

So, yeah. Sometimes talking to Melanie meant they asked about the weather and then ran out of things to talk about. At least until Melanie asked, “Heard from Mom yet?” Because, oh yeah. They could almost always talk about her, too.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed, “Earlier this week. Said she needed money to be able to get a Christmas present for her new boyfriend.”

“I got the same sob story,” Melanie replied, “Did you send her any?”

“Yeah, I sent her some.”

“I did, too. Twenty-five dollars. I mean, I feel awful, but also, it’s not like I have a lot of money. I’m here on scholarship and I have a part-time job, but…college is expensive.”

“You know what?” Sam said, “Don’t worry about sending Mom money for a while. Right now, I’m doing okay, so let me deal with her when she’s broke. You just worry about school.”

“You mean that?” Melanie asked.

“Of course,” Sam replied. Really, it was the least she could do. She and Cat were still doing fine, financially. Not that Melanie knew or needed to know that Sam had money. “That way she’ll bother you less, too.”

Melanie was quiet for a moment. “If she didn’t bother me for money, I’m not certain when I’d hear from her,” was the reply.

It was a fair point. “I mean. If you want you can still send her stuff. I’ll reimburse you. Just don’t let her take from you when you don’t have anything to spare.”

“And you do?”

“Right now, I do,” Sam kept it succinct.

“Wow.” Melanie was quiet, again. Sam realized belatedly that Melanie probably assumed Sam was doing something illegal to get money. She didn’t know whether she should dissuade her sister from that assumption. “Well, thanks Sam. I’ll text you if I hear from Mom.”

“Me, too. Have a good Christmas. What are you doing, anyway?” She realized her sister might be alone in her dorm room for Christmas, and she didn’t like that.

“One of my friends lives locally, so I’m spending it with her family,” Melanie told her.

“Good. Good.”

“How’s your Christmas with Cat?”

“It’s--good,” Sam faltered a little, “How’d you know we…” she trailed off, wondering if it was so strange for Melanie to assume they were spending Christmas together, realizing that she’d never told Melanie that Cat was her girlfriend.

“Uh, well, you did make me rub fried chicken on myself and go hug her over the summer, remember?” Melanie drawled. “Kinda made it obvious that you two were more than friends.”

“But we _weren’t_ more than friends then.”

“So you are now?”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted after a moment. Even if she and her sister didn’t talk that often, there were moments like this that reminded Sam of how well they actually did know each other.

“Big surprise,” Melanie said lightly, “I think you two could be great for each other. How’s Cat doing, by the way?”

“She’s doing really well.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m really happy for you both, Sam. Have a great Christmas.”

“I will. You too.”

They hung up, after their slightly awkward phone call. Sam knew that twins often felt a deep affinity with each other, if everything she’d seen and read was true. She and Melanie had their twin pact, but that was their deepest form of connection, a childhood agreement to come to one another’s aid in times of crisis (or, you know, if you really needed to pull a prank). But otherwise, they lived very separate lives. Sam wondered if she’d ever feel that sort of profound connection with her sister, or would ever ache from the lack of it.

At least when it came to things like holidays and their mother, they were generally on the same page. Even if that meant those were usually the only things they could discuss. But now, with Cat, and with her sister’s support, Sam figured there was at least one more thing they could add to that list.

-

Cat was having a great Christmas Day. After presents, they’d started watching Christmas movies together as the morning dragged on. Sam was still wearing her new jacket over her pajamas, seeming uninterested in taking it off, and even Nona was interrupting the movie watching experience a lot less than normal. As the afternoon neared, Nona got up to start making a Christmas lunch for them, and Sam seemed shocked that Nona was planning to shower them with more food that day.

Dice dropped by for a little while, to exchange gifts (he got Cat a fancy hummingbird feeder that she was excited to put out on the patio) but mostly to get away from his Christmas with his Aunt Fergene’s parents. He bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t stay to eat lunch, since delicious scents were already wafting from the kitchen where Nona was cooking, griped that Goomer was way too busy to hang out while his mom was in town, and eventually had to reluctantly head back to his own apartment. 

Soon after that, Cat’s phone rang. She looked at the screen, surprised to see that she had an incoming video call from her mom.

“My mom wants to video chat,” she reached for her hair automatically to straighten it. It had been a lazy day; neither she nor Sam had showered or dressed yet.

Sam looked at her, a little wide-eyed with surprise, “Are you gonna answer it?” she gestured to the phone.

“I guess so,” Cat said uncertainly, then took a breath and pressed accept on her phone.

“Cat!” came an excited male voice from her phone.

It was so surprising that it took Cat a moment to even make sense of it, but then she found herself on her feet, shouting, “Gio!” at her phone.

“Hi! Hi! How are you? Merry Christmas!” he spoke quickly, not even waiting for a response from Cat.

“I’m great! Oh my god it’s so good to see you!” He looked basically the same as she remembered, though his hair was cut shorter than he used to wear it, and his cheeks looked fuller. Though maybe that was because he was actually smiling. “I can’t believe it! Are you at Mom and Dad’s?”

“Yeah, I get to visit for a while today. It’s been fun, but we miss you.”

“Maybe I’ll see you next year.”

“I bet you will. Cat, you look so happy!”

“I am happy! Oh my gosh, Gio, you’ve never seen my apartment!”

He shook his head. “I haven’t! Just a couple of pictures.”

“Let me give you a tour! Oh, first, here’s Sam,” she put her arm around Sam’s shoulders and drew her close.

“Hey, Gio, it’s nice to meet you,” Sam waved, flashing him a genuine smile.

“Sam! I feel like I already know you,” Gio replied.

“Likewise,” Sam agreed.

“Oh, and Nona’s here!” Cat turned the camera to show her cooking, “But you already know Nona.” She let Gio and Nona exchange greetings, even though she was impatient to continue the tour. She showed Gio their living room furniture and told him again how Sam had taken it from the set of _That’s a Drag_ , which impressed him, and then she took him back to the bedroom.

“So this is Sam’s side of the room, and that’s mine.”

“Never would have guessed that was your side,” he joked, “And Sam looks like she has good taste!”

“Hey!” Cat pouted.

“You do, too!” Gio said earnestly, “With the...old men by your bed.”

“Doesn’t Dick Cheney look just like Grandpa?” Cat pointed at the portrait of the former vice president.

“I thought it _was_ Grandpa!”

Cat laughed and turned the camera back around so he could see her face. “This is my favorite Christmas,” Cat told him happily.

He grinned, “Me, too! Oh, hey, can I talk to Nona real quick? Then Mom’s probably gonna want to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Cat agreed, “I’m so glad you got to go home for Christmas. And I’m so glad you called.”

Gio glanced behind him, like he was ensuring he was alone, or out of earshot. “This isn’t home, but it’ll do. Love you, Cat.”

“I love you, too, Gio.” Cat was already on her way out of the bedroom to hand the phone off to Nona, who sounded delighted to talk to her grandson. She joined Sam on the couch, resting her head on Sam’s shoulder, already feeling tears welling up.

“You okay,” Sam asked when she heard the first sniff.

“I’m great,” Cat told her.

Sam held her a little tighter, anyway.

-

The next morning, Sam woke up, again, to the smell of bacon. She wondered if Nona was back. But when she shuffled out of the bedroom, it was only Cat in the kitchen, happily buzzing around, setting up breakfast. Sam was grumpy, but it was hard not to feel warmth in her chest when watching her girlfriend, especially when she was piling bacon onto a plate.

"Good morning," Cat chirped, cheerfully.

"Morning," Sam grumbled, slipping into the breakfast nook, her eyes fully on the plate of bacon as Cat set it down on the table. "Wow, what'd I do to deserve all this?"

"It's not all for you. We have a guest coming today, remember?"

Oh yeah. Sam's eyes fell on the third place setting. Cat's cousin was supposed to be arriving today. Huh. She realized she had no idea who this person actually was. "What's her name, again?" Had Cat even told her that much? Sam knew she had a habit of tuning out when she wasn't interested, but it seemed like something she would have remembered.

Cat hummed as she glided between the table and the counter, pouring juice and stacking toast. "Marley," she finally said. As Sam poured herself a cup of coffee and Cat finished placing the breakfast items, Cat added, "Marley Table."

"Your cousin's name is Marley Table?" Cat shrugged. Sam didn't question it. Instead, she asked, "When's she supposed to get here?"

"Soon. Goomer texted that he picked her up from the airport about a half hour ago." Cat began to collect the pans and bowls she used to make breakfast so she could stack them in the sink. As the doorbell rang, she glanced over her shoulder. "Would you get that?"

"Ugh. Fine." Sam took one more gulp of coffee, then pushed herself up out of the booth, grabbing the plate of bacon as she headed for the door. She picked up a strip and began chewing on it, ultimately shoving the whole piece in her mouth when she had to reach for the doorknob. With a twist and a pull, the door was open and she was not, in fact, face to face with the mysterious Marley Table, but instead looking right at Carly Shay.

Carly, who she hadn't seen in person in almost two years. Carly, her best friend, who was supposed to be in Italy, doing Italian Christmas things this week. Carly, took one look at Sam with a plate stacked with bacon in one hand and a mouthful of the stuff and said, "That's about how I pictured this would go." She took the plate from Sam (and, other than Cat, was probably the only person on the planet who could successfully pull that off without a fight) and passed it to Goomer, who was standing behind her with what appeared to be Carly's bags hanging from his shoulder. "You done chewing?"

Sam swallowed, then nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." Because then Carly flung herself at Sam and wrapped her in a hug so tight Sam thought she might stop breathing and decided it didn't matter because Death By Carly Hug was completely and totally acceptable, as far as she was concerned.

The last time she'd been in this position was that night in Seattle, when Carly had packed up and shipped out for Italy with her dad. Sam hadn't blamed her for it; maybe if she had a dad of her own who showed up and wanted to take her somewhere, she might do the exact same thing. But now Carly was here, in her apartment, and even though her hair smelled different than the citrus scent she was used to (they probably had different shampoo in Europe), her arms felt the same, the way they closed around Sam's entire body and made her feel close to the person who probably knew her the best out of anyone in the entire world. (Cat was a close second and only held back by having less time to get to know Sam.) But Carly hugs were extra special because they were rarer now. Sam kept her eyes closed and did her best to file the moment away, the same way Cat talked about creating memories that would last.

And Cat... _wait_ , did Cat even have a cousin named _Marley Table_?

"Can I put this stuff down?" Goomer asked. "That food smells good. And Cat, you didn't tell me your cousin was Carly from _iCarly_."

"She's not, silly," Cat lilted. "It was a Christmas surprise for Sam."

Sam realized she was standing between the two people she loved most on the planet, her best friend and her girlfriend. Even though it was the day after Christmas, this was the best Christmas, ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Can’t Stop the Feeling!_ by Justin Timberlake.
> 
> **Next time on Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay):**
> 
> This evening was like many, in that they spent some time in the living room, alternately chatting and watching television to wind the night down. They hadn’t eaten yet, and Cat was in the kitchen working on dinner. Carly actually really liked watching Cat cook, and helping when she was permitted, but Cat insisted that she and Sam continue the conversation they’d been having while she cooked, since they were laughing and reminiscing about old times.
> 
> “And that was one of the many times Wendy almost got me expelled that I never told you about,” Sam finished a story that involved her and Wendy breaking into the cafeteria to steal hotdogs and leaving them in Mrs. Brigg’s desk.
> 
> “I don’t know why you kept that from me, you and I have done worse.”
> 
> “Nah,” Sam waved her hand, “You mean _I’ve_ done worse, and you took the fall.”
> 
> It wasn’t entirely accurate. Still, Carly pushed back a little, “It wasn’t Wendy who got caught with me inside Mrs. Brigg’s house.”
> 
> “No, it was Freddie,” Sam corrected, “I got caught _outside_ her house.”
> 
> Leave it to Sam to remember the technicalities for all her misdeeds. “Okay, fair.”
> 
> “I guess there was a lot I didn’t tell you about me and Wendy,” Sam admitted, “Seemed safer just to not say anything sometimes.”
> 
> “I _still_ can’t believe you guys fingered each other in the janitor’s closet. _At school_.” Sam blushed. Carly glanced over her shoulder, but Cat didn’t seem to react to the topic. In fact, she didn’t seem to be listening at all. “It _was_ just like, fingering that you guys did, right?” Carly asked, her tone quiet and curious.
> 
> “Yeah,” Sam confirmed quietly.
> 
> Carly didn’t think that Sam had done much more. But then, they hadn’t really video chatted in a couple of weeks because Carly had recently arrived in Seattle on Friday night and there would have been no way to pretend she was in Italy. She’d used the excuse of her dad being home for Christmas (which, he was, since they were both in Seattle). But maybe Sam and Cat had done more since they’d last talked about sex. “So, wait,” Carly asked in a subdued tone, “Have you ever like, gone down on a girl?”
> 
> “No,” Sam breathed, leaning closer, “Have _you_?” Her tone was simultaneously awed and envious.
> 
> Carly smirked, unable to hide her glee. “Before I left Italy...Amandine and I got to try it. And it was…” She took a deep breath, remembering all the feelings it had ignited in her. The sensations in all of it, the intense pleasure of Amandine’s mouth moving over her, and the deep satisfaction of returning that same powerful euphoria to her lover, of letting her senses be enveloped by the whole experience, letting her mind be enraptured by the potent bliss of feeling Amandine come against her lips. “It was really amazing,” she stated, knowing it was an understatement, but not sure she had any other words.
> 
> “Damn,” Sam murmured, “That’s…” she shook her head, groping for words, “I can’t wait,” she finally stated.


	8. All the shine of a thousand spotlights, All the stars we steal from the night sky, Will never be enough

Cat had been beaming since the moment Carly wrapped Sam in a strong, secure hug, and neither one of them showed any inclination to let go. It was gratifying, that she’d kept this gift an actual surprise, that Sam was so clearly moved by it, that Carly herself looked almost like she might cry as she held onto her best friend. It was like Cat could feel the affection and delight radiating off of the reunited pair, and it felt _so good_ that she was able to help make this moment a reality.

“I really can’t believe you’re here,” she heard Sam murmur as they finally pulled apart, stepping aside enough to let Goomer into the apartment, still carrying the plate of bacon and Carly’s bags.

“Believe it,” Carly laughed, “Cat helped a lot.”

Sam turned finally and Cat could see her smile, the wide, utterly joyful one that was usually reserved for moments when they laughed together after kissing for a long time, but, combined with Sam’s teary eyes, was an almost unfamiliar expression of fondness and gratitude. “You’re actually the best,” she informed Cat, which Cat supposed was about as sappy as Sam was prepared to get in front of other people.

“I think what Sam means to say is ‘thank you,’” Carly grinned at Cat, “It’s really nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too!” Cat flung herself at Carly, who seemed only marginally surprised at the affectionate contact. “Sam’s told me so much about you.”

“Likewise,” Carly gave Cat an appraising sort of look as they pulled apart, but Cat felt certain that she had Carly’s approval.

“Where should I put this bacon?” Goomer asked, still standing by politely, laden with luggage.

Sam snatched back the bacon, as if she’d just remembered that she’d even been eating it. Which, maybe she had legitimately forgotten. It was hard to fathom, but Cat also knew how important Carly was to her girlfriend. “You want some?” Sam offered through her mouthful of the food, holding out the plate to Carly.

“God, do I ever,” Carly replied, “You know they don’t make it like this in Italy?”

“Really?” Sam’s eyes bulged, “How do you _survive_?”

“What should I do with these bags?” Goomer asked. He was still patiently waiting next to the sofa for further instruction.

“Oh, set them down next to the front closet for now,” Cat instructed him. She could hear Carly telling Sam between bites of bacon about the delicious cured meats in Italy that she’d been enjoying.

“That food smells really good,” Goomer reiterated as he set down Carly’s luggage.

“Do you want some breakfast?” Cat offered him. She’d made plenty; she wasn’t sure how hungry Carly would be after her travels, and, well, she always planned for Sam-sized portions of things.

“Can I?” Goomer asked eagerly, making his way over to the kitchen island. As he began loading up a plate, he said, “So Carly’s really not your cousin?”

By now, Carly and Sam had moved across the living room, and Sam was showing Carly all the pieces from the _That’s A Drag!_ set that she’d liberated for their home. They must’ve been close enough to listen to Cat’s conversation with Goomer, because Carly laughed when Cat replied, “Unless she knows something I don’t.”

“We’re not cousins,” Carly confirmed definitively. “I don’t have any Italian in me.”

“But I thought you said you come from Italy,” Goomer frowned.

Now poor Goomer was just confused. “She just lives there,” Sam explained. “Come on, Carls, let me show you more of the apartment.”

Cat trailed off after them, as eager as Sam to show off their apartment for their guest. Goomer still looked baffled as he took a seat on one of the living room chairs with his plate of breakfast foods. Cat snagged some bacon before Sam and Carly finished it all, as Sam showed Carly the hall closet.

“A whole shelf just for Sam, huh?” Carly commented.

“It’s her ham shelf,” Cat supplied, “So she never runs out.”

“Smart,” Carly commented. There was that appraising look again, but Carly also looked pleased and proud.

It made Cat feel good.

“Here’s the guest bathroom, which you can use,” Sam pointed to the bathroom in the hall, the one that primarily the kids they babysat and guests used. “The shower is kinda wonky, though, so you can use ours if you hate it.” It was part of the reason they shared a bathroom: the shower really _was_ noticeably better (the one in the guest bathroom tended to change temperature randomly). Plus, Cat didn’t trust Sam not to steal her soap if they used separate showers, because she would undoubtedly either forget to buy it or forget where Cat kept it, and Cat wasn’t about to be caught in the shower without soap.

“Wait, you have two bathrooms in this apartment?” Carly asked, “Isn’t it a one bedroom? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“There’s _technically_ another room,” Cat supplied.

“We’ll show you,” Sam said as Carly just looked utterly confused.

Sam led the way into their bedroom, which made Carly gasp a little when she entered. “Okay, it looks _way_ different on my computer screen,” she informed Sam.

“I told you we split it down the middle,” Sam spoke through her bacon.

Carly moved to the center of the room, taking in each side. “It’s unique,” she decided. “This side is _very_ you,” she scrutinized Sam’s side more closely, then frowned. “Sam? Why do you have a urinal over your bed?”

“Why not?” was Sam’s nonchalant reply, “Makes a statement.”

“What kind of a _statement_?” Carly challenged, though she looked more amused than disgusted.

“I don’t know, that I could tear one of those suckers off a wall and take it home and get away with it?” Sam suggested.

“Is that what happened?” Cat was awed and a little disturbed by the story.

Sam merely shrugged enigmatically. Carly rolled her eyes. “Okay, we won’t ask any more questions about your gross trophy. You said there was a second room?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, and moved quickly over to the safe in the closet. Cat winced as she watched Sam wipe her bacon-greasy fingers on her turtle pajama pants and then punched in the code on the safe. She swung open the door and gestured with a flourish. “Our secret room,” she said proudly.

“Cool,” Carly replied enthusiastically, peering inside, “What do you do in there?”

“Right now it’s my art studio,” Sam explained, “But for a while it was the base of operations where we made bootleg soda.”

“You told me about that,” Carly nodded in recognition, “I just couldn’t wrap my head around this _safe room_.” She gazed around, “Your apartment makes _no_ sense.”

“Neither did yours,” Sam pointed out, “Back home.”

“It used to be an industrial space,” Carly explained or, more likely, reminded Sam.

“Ours is weird,” Cat agreed, “It’s not a normal unit. My Nona told me that when she got the place they told her the original apartment owner lived in this unit and did all kinds of modifications to it. It’s not like any of the others.”

“We figured we could do the same thing,” Sam replied.

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Carly said cautiously.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Cat assured her, “Nona won’t miss her security deposit.”

At this, Carly released a surprised little laugh. “Okay, that I can relate to.”

“Yeah, can’t imagine Spencer will be leaving your dad with much of a security deposit,” Sam chuckled, “Wanna eat before I show you my art studio?”

Carly glanced toward the safe again, “Well, I’m sure you do, so let’s eat.”

“Yeah, come on, I’ll show you the refrigerator where I put food in that disappears really fast.” Cat ushered them out of the bedroom.

“I sure don’t know what _that’s_ like,” Carly drawled sarcastically.

Once in the kitchen, they loaded up their plates and crowded into the breakfast nook together. Goomer had already finished his plate of food and thanked Cat for breakfast, but explained he had to get back home because he had plans with his mom that day. Cat thanked him for picking Carly up at the airport.

“I was still so surprised to pick up Carly from _iCarly_ ,” Goomer shook his head at them, as if the situation was still sinking in a little bit, “I wasn’t expecting her to be your houseguest.”

“Goomer, that’s _Sam_ from _iCarly_ ,” Cat gestured toward Sam, a little incredulously.

Goomer gazed at Sam for a moment and then his face split into a grin, “Oh, yeah!” he drawled in recognition, “So _that’s_ how you know Carly!”

“Yep, known her a long time,” Sam replied succinctly, “We’ll see you later, Goomer,” she prompted him.

“Kay kay,” he waved, “Call me when you wanna go somewhere!” He gazed with interest at Sam and Carly for another moment before he left.

It was already sort of on her mind, but now that Goomer had said it, Cat couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that she basically had _iCarly_ happening in her kitchen. Especially when Sam and Carly got up to get some seconds for breakfast, chuckling and hip-checking each other, clearly just giddy to be in each other’s presence.

“It _is_ pretty weird,” Cat said aloud, still formulating some of her thoughts, as she stood on the other side of the kitchen island from them, clearing away plates of food that had been finished off.

“What is, babe?” Sam asked.

“That it does feel like an episode of _iCarly_ is happening, right in front of me. Even though you aren’t doing anything.” Cat wanted to be clear that she didn’t think anything that was happening was specifically for her entertainment. It was just the two of them, the natural ease of friendship between them, and the familiarity of them to Cat herself. Somehow, even Sam looked a little different next to Carly, still her girlfriend, but the context had shifted just enough that it brought Cat back to her younger years, watching them on her computer screen and giggling at their antics during a sleepover at Tori’s house.

“Ah, so you used to watch us?” Carly mused.

It wasn’t really a question, and Cat knew that, but she replied anyway, too excited about every part of the situation to keep quiet, “I sure did! My favorite sketch was The Cowboy and the Idiot Farmgirl Who Thought The Cowboy’s Moustache was a Squirrel.”

“A popular one,” Carly shot a grin at Sam, “It was Jimmy Fallon’s favorite, too.”

“It was,” Sam agreed.

“I remember that,” Cat nodded, and they seemed to collectively agree, after a moment’s pause, not to bring up the incident with Gibby exposing himself to America.

Instead, Cat saw Sam reach for Carly’s plate, taking the very last piece of bacon, and she held it up to her upper lip. “He--” Carly started, before quickly switching gears. “Heeeey,” she intoned instead in her silly, coquettish drawl.

“Well, hello there,” Sam replied in an exaggerated low twang.

“What’s his name?” Carly asked, giggling as she tapped the crispy end of Sam’s bacon moustache.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t know what you mean. This here is my moustache,” Sam flourished the last word with a few extra syllables.

Carly giggled even more, “It’s a squirrel,” she insisted quickly between giggles.

“No, ma’am, I guarantee you that this is a moustache,” Sam insisted, an edge of irritation in her cowboy voice.

Carly draped herself against Sam, leaning close, “But it looks like a hairless squirrel. It _smells_ like a squirrel,” she insisted in that same bubbly tone, “I really think it might be _squirrel bacon_ ,” she snatched at the breakfast food serving as a makeshift moustache.

Sam, however, seemed to fully anticipate this, and held onto the bacon as best she could, leaving her and Carly each holding half of her former moustache. “Now that was certainly uncalled for,” she said in her cowboy voice.

“Sorry,” Carly tittered back as she took a bite, “Your squirrel tastes _really_ good,” she informed Sam.

“My moustache ain’t meant for vittles--aw, what the hey,” Sam took a bite herself, “Guess it is pretty good for a moustache.”

Cat couldn’t help it, she burst into delighted applause at the end of the little skit. “You guys are so good at this!” she gushed.

“Thanks,” Carly grinned, “It was kinda fun to do it again, just for a minute.” Sam just grunted in response, and Carly rolled her eyes and nudged her, “You only did it for the bacon,” she accused.

“Hey, I had fun,” Sam insisted, “Cat’s a good audience.”

“She is,” Carly agreed with a grin, which made Cat smile back.

After breakfast, Cat was rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher while Sam got Carly set up on the couch, finding pillows and blankets for her. Of course, it would be awhile before bedtime, but Sam wanted to get everything out for her so no one would forget to handle it until they were all too tired. The front closet had space in it for Carly to keep her luggage, just so it was out of the way, and the extra blankets and pillows were kept on one of the living room chairs until later.

Cat finished with the dishes and was coming over to see what Sam and Carly might want to do next when Sam spoke. “Oh,” she sounded like she’d just remembered something, “I have a Christmas present for you,” she told Carly.

“I have something for you, too,” Carly grinned.

“What, you coming to see me wasn’t enough?” Sam asked incredulously, “I’ll be right back.”

Carly got up and got her backpack out of the front closet and brought it back to the couch. “I didn’t have time to wrap anything for Sam,” she told Cat quietly.

“Hold on, I might have a gift bag you can use.” Cat sprang up from the couch and trotted over to her sewing nook, finding a large gift bag she’d intended to repurpose and carrying it back over to Carly. “This should fit almost anything. Unless it’s small enough to get lost among the tissue paper.”

Carly laughed, “Now I wish I just had something tiny for her. That would be hilarious.” By then, Sam was coming back into the front, and Cat got up to delay her for a moment so that Carly could finish putting Sam’s gift in the bag. But then, she stood off to the side and watched as Sam sat next to Carly on the couch and passed her a gift bag of her own.

“Who goes first?” Carly asked.

“You go ahead,” Sam offered.

Carly grinned excitedly and reached into the gift bag, pulling out a painting. Cat wasn’t surprised that Sam had painted something for Carly, and she was eager to see what it was. “Sam,” Carly sounded very touched, “This is amazing!”

The canvas was much smaller than the one Sam had painted for Cat. But then, there seemed to be a reason for that, because Sam said quickly, “Do you like it? I know it’s small. But I didn’t know how I was going to get it to you and thought I might have to mail it, so…”

“It will probably fit into my luggage so you won’t have to,” Carly assured her. “Sam, this is,” she started giggling, “This is so funny and amazing.”

“What is it?” Cat finally asked, unable to be kept out of the loop.

Carly glanced up at Cat, then grinned and turned the painting toward her. Cat saw a fuzzy creature with pale silvery blue fur apparently painting its dark claws bright pink. “It’s a yeti painting its nails,” Carly gushed.

“Yeah, Carly’s a huge Bigfoot nerd,” Sam smiled fondly.

“I just know he’s real!” Carly insisted, “There’s too much evidence to ignore it completely.”

“Hey, I was there when Socko’s RV got stolen,” Sam agreed, “I can’t explain what happened.”

“ _I_ know what happened,” Carly declared, “Bigfoot stole the RV and fled the country.”

“It’s definitely high on my list of possibilities,” Sam said doggedly.

“Sam! Bigfoot attacked Spencer!”

“We saw a _lot_ of weird stuff that night,” Sam insisted, “I can’t rule out a hoax! Though I also think it could be Bigfoot,” she conceded.

“Wow,” Cat was awed, “You don’t think there’s a Bigfoot in California, do you?”

“Almost certainly,” Carly replied immediately, “But not in Los Angeles.”

“Ooh, okay,” Cat said, keeping her tone completely serious, “I thought it might explain our neighbor, Herb.”

And even though Carly almost certainly didn’t know who Herb was, she laughed immediately, while Sam scrunched up her face momentarily before shaking her head and joining Carly in her laughter. “You’re funny, Cat,” Carly replied, turning the painting around to admire it some more. “And Sam, you’re incredible. Thank you.”

“Sure,” Sam fidgeted with her hands awkwardly. “Can I open mine?”

“Go ahead,” Carly pushed the bag toward her. “Might not be as exciting, but…”

“It’s from you, how can it _not_ be exciting,” Sam countered, digging into the gift bag. She pulled out a t-shirt and opened it in front of her. Cat could see it over her shoulder. It said _Seattle_ in giant letters below an image of a mountain with a sun setting behind it. “Carly,” Sam sounded like she was grinning, “What is this?”

“Just a grab bag of Seattle goodness,” Carly smiled, “I didn’t have time to _really_ go shopping while I was there, so I raided a gift shop at the airport. Just some stuff to remind you of home.”

Sam was already digging into the bag. She pulled out a beanie that also said Seattle on it, the logo a similar color scheme as the t-shirt. Sam didn’t wear hats that often; her hair was wild enough without having to deal with hat head. But Cat thought a beanie would suit her well. Sam pulled out a giant magnet featuring an image of the Seattle skyline, a mock license plate that read _Bigfoot_ , and what appeared to be some assorted snacks. “You didn’t,” Sam was staring at Carly.

“Yep,” Carly confirmed.

“What did you get?” Cat asked. She’d been shown, directly and indirectly, everything else in the bag, and she was curious.

“Special snacks,” Sam said reverently, turning on the couch to face Cat a little more. “Chips, jerky, candy bars, and smoked salmon,” she intoned in awe.

“I’m sorry, Carly bought _salmon_ at the airport?” Cat was moving closer in curiosity.

“Yeah. It’s like, vacuum sealed and ready to eat,” Carly explained.

“And it’s gonna taste _just like_ Seattle,” Sam said hungrily. But then, she leaned over to grab Carly in a tight hug, not seeming to care as the assortment of snacks fell off her lap and onto the floor. “Thanks, Carls,” she murmured.

“Merry Christmas, Sam,” Carly replied.

That night, after they’d spent the day talking and laughing and watching TV, and after Carly had helped Cat cook dinner, both excited to share their knowledge of Italian cooking with each other, it was time for bed. It was already pretty late, and Cat was certainly ready for bed. Carly, too, was yawning. She and Sam got Carly’s bed set up on the couch.

“Sorry we only have a couch,” Sam was saying, “But it’s not so bad. I used to sleep on it for a while until Cat and I divided the room.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Carly assured her.

“You’re not gonna keep us up with your snoring, will you?” Sam asked.

“Hey!” Carly lightly smacked Sam’s shoulder, “I don’t snore anymore. Not since I got my tonsils out last year.” She shuddered, “It was a nightmare, but at least I can breathe while I’m sleeping now.”

“Uh huh,” Sam teased back, “Maybe I’ll ask Amandine to confirm.”

Carly blushed slightly, “She’d tell you the same thing. No snoring.”

“Just come knock on our bedroom door if Sam’s snoring keeps you up,” Cat piped up.

Carly’s expression was triumphant, “Oh, how the tables have turned.”

“I don’t snore!” Sam insisted doggedly.

“She does,” Cat stage-whispered to Carly.

“But seriously, if you need anything, come knock,” Sam encouraged.

Carly shot her a very skeptical look, “Um, yeah right. I’m not about to go knocking on the bedroom door of a couple at night.”

“It’ll be fine,” Cat assured her, “We’d rather you knock if you really need something. Really.”

Carly still looked hesitant, but nodded, “Sure, okay.”

“Oh, also Sam will probably come raid the fridge in the middle of the night. Don’t be scared,” Cat warned.

Carly smiled, “That will probably make me feel right at home.”

They said goodnight to Carly and headed into the bedroom. Cat was already yawning as they jostled for sink space in the bathroom, alternately brushing their teeth and washing their faces. When they changed into their pajamas on opposite sides of the room, Cat was too tired to even try to get a look at Sam’s hair tumbling down the bare, pale skin of her back as she pulled on her sleep t-shirt. But as she slid into her bed, Sam came over to slide in beside her.

“I’m so tired,” Cat warned.

“I know, babe. Me too,” Sam agreed, “Just...all the excitement of the day. But I really...I love you so much. I’m so glad Carly’s here and I know you were a big part of that. And I just want to show you how much I appreciate it.”

Cat grinned and turned toward Sam in the bed, “Show me, then,” she breathed invitingly.

Despite the fact that they were both tired, the kisses were powerful, Sam’s expression of gratitude at once creating fulfillment and longing in Cat, and she whimpered and slipped her hand into Sam’s shirt, just to feel the warmth of her skin against her hand. Sam’s fingers gripped Cat’s pajama shirt tightly, and she pressed her body closer, but before too long, she was pulling back, resting her head against Cat’s, breathing audibly in the darkness of their room. “Thank you,” Sam murmured.

Cat’s response was to place a kiss on her nose, which made Sam exhale a sniff and grin. “Guess I should go to my bed,” she sighed.

Cat tightened her arm around her, “You can stay here for a minute.”

They drifted off to sleep together, at least until Sam’s stomach loudy signaled it was time for a midnight snack. But Cat was tired enough that it barely roused her from her slumber.

-

That Saturday, Jade and Tori came over instead of Sunday for their Funday hangout. It just worked out better; it was Goomer’s last day with his mother before she flew home, so he was spending it with her, and besides, Jade and Tori themselves seemed pretty eager to hang out sooner.

Sam realized why when they arrived around noon on Saturday, and she let them in. “So...Carly is really here?” was the first thing Tori said.

“Uh, yeah?” Sam replied, brow furrowing.

“Wow,” Tori sounded awed, “I kinda can’t believe she’s here. Carly of _iCarly_.”

“Tori,” Cat looked concerned, “This is _Sam_ from _iCarly_ ,” repeating the same thing she’d said to Goomer the day before.

“I know that!” Tori said quickly.

“Also, you’ve _met_ Carly before,” Jade sounded as though she’d had to say this to Tori a few times already.

“Yeah, you were on our show,” Sam nodded.

“I know, I know, but...this is different.”

“How?” Sam asked, still baffled, but before anyone had a chance to answer, Carly came into the living room from the bathroom, where she’d been prepping for a day out.

“Oh, hey!” Carly greeted, “Tori, nice to see you again.”

Tori merely stared for a long moment before finally managing a garbled, “Nice to--how’re ya--hey, Carly, how’s things?”

“...Good,” Carly was still smiling, but Sam could see in her eyes that she was a little confused, but she brushed past it. “You must be Jade. I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jade replied easily, “I was at that party at Kenan Thompson’s house with you guys but never ran into you. This was before Tori and I were a thing, of course.”

“Yeah,” Tori blurted, “Before I was gay. I mean, before I was out. ‘Cause we were dating the same guy. Steven. How dare he, right?”

“I don’t know why I ever thought he was charming,” Carly agreed.

“Yeah!” Tori agreed, too emphatically, and she seemed to realize she was coming on strong as she subsided next to Jade, who was giving her a bit of a side-eye.

“Anyway,” Jade cut in, “You guys ready to go?”

“I think so,” Sam looked to Cat and Carly for confirmation. Cat was picking up her purse, and Carly was gathering her own bag, and Sam checked her pockets for her phone and her wallet as they went out the door.

They all piled into Tori’s car, which Sam knew was nicknamed The Shaggin’ Wagon. Unlike Jade’s car, which Sam knew she kept pretty empty in part because she had a door that didn’t lock, Tori’s car looked like what she would expect for a college student who commuted to campus. The back of the station wagon was stacked with blankets and pillows, the back seat covered in a textbook and a some notebooks, which Tori instructed them with some embarrassment to just toss over the seat into the trunk, there was a plastic bag full of trash by Jade’s feet in the passenger’s seat and old coffee cups (with sleeves bearing the name _YasssHomo_ ) in Tori’s cupholders. Sam figured it was probably better she stick with a motorcycle for a while. She couldn’t judge Tori at all for this, because any car she might own would be far worse.

Cat ended up sitting in the middle in the backseat, because she had the shortest legs. Sam held her hand as they sat pressed, shoulder to shoulder, while Tori navigated the streets of Venice for the short trip to the boardwalk. She and Cat lived _just_ far enough that it was simply much easier to drive, though while Sam could usually find a spot to park her motorcycle (even if it wasn’t always _technically_ a parking space), they’d have to pay to park Tori’s car. Still, with the group of them each chipping in a little, it was worth it.

Carly had only been here for a few days. On Thursday, the day she’d arrived, she’d mostly just settled in, and yesterday, they’d gone with Goomer and Dice into the city to see some of the iconic sights of Hollywood, but they hadn’t been to the beach yet. Sam watched as Carly stepped out of Tori’s car, looking around her, clearly awed even though they were just in a parking lot. Still, they were close enough to see the beach, to see the line of palm trees stretching down the boardwalk, to see the throngs of people enjoying the midday warmth as they strolled along the boardwalk itself, gazing at tourist shops and medical marijuana vendors and street performers.

“Whoa,” Carly uttered, “This really looks like the movies.”

Sam remembered how it felt when she’d first come to Los Angeles, how she’d never intended to stop here, but meeting Cat had changed everything. She’d just been on a months-long tour of the United States on her motorcycle, in which she’d crossed into each and every one of the lower forty-eight states, even if some she just barely passed through on the highway. In short, she’d seen _a lot_. She’d seen the majestic snow-capped peaks of the Rockies, the flat, empty land of the middle of the country, the Great Lakes with their ocean-like waves, the dewy, foggy mornings of New England as it ushered in an early autumn, the thick, green forests of the east coast, the overgrowth of kudzu all along the highways below the Mason-Dixon line, the neverending stretch of a Texas highway dotted with oil rigs, the palette of reds and browns of a southwestern desert. She’d experienced the gaseous scent of salt marshes, the powerful smell she could almost taste of fresh manure, the soupy, humid air that clung to her in the heart of the south, the lingering odor of juniper on the breeze, the bustle of a crowded coastal city and the doldrums of an empty midland. And she’d sampled food from every region: fried cheese curds, Coney dogs, Cincinnati chili, spuckies, scrapple, shoofly pie, chicken and waffles, crab cakes, fried green tomatoes, gumbo, jambalaya, chicken fried steak, Frito pie, and many more things she’d already forgotten the names of.

Sam had experienced so much before she ever made it to her final destination that was never meant to be her final destination. And though she might’ve expected her travels would’ve made the shine of Los Angeles duller, it really hadn’t. She’d been as captivated by the palm trees, the sprawling city, the Hollywood Hills as much as Carly was right now. And when she saw the ocean again, the way the familiar Pacific looked when you were standing in the soft sand in the cool ocean breeze, it took Sam’s breath away.

So yeah. Sam couldn’t disagree at all with Carly’s first assessment, even if she was more than used to the glamour of her home now. “Take it in, Carls,” she encouraged, “Southern California really is one of a kind.”

It occurred to her that Carly was literally living in _Florence_ , which, although Sam couldn’t name a single famous thing in the city, she knew was important somehow. It was kind of a relief that even the charm of the old world couldn’t quite prepare Carly for this moment. Carly’s only comment on the subject was, “I still haven’t been to Venice, Italy yet, but boy do I want to. Still, I can’t imagine it looks much like this.”

“I think the canals are the major reason for the name,” Jade supplied, “But yeah, otherwise, I don’t think there’s much of a similarity.”

“Canals? Here?” Carly asked with interest.

“Let’s take a walk, we’ll see how far we get,” Sam suggested.

The group started down the boardwalk, letting Carly set the pace. They paused to watch a pair of street performers executing a complicated dance routine, and no one minded the diversion. A little further down was the Muscle Beach gym, which caught Carly’s interest even if she didn’t stop walking.

“Goomer works out there sometimes,” Cat told her.

“I’ve heard of this place,” Carly replied, “You’ve mentioned it,” she directed at Sam.

“Yeah, the outdoor gym with the lumpy dudes,” Sam confirmed, “This whole area is just full of athletic guys showing off.” Indeed, there were also a lot of skateboarders and surfers that congregated in the area, “It can be funny to watch sometimes.”

“Bodybuilders aren’t really my type,” Carly revealed.

“I think we all can agree on that,” Jade smirked at Tori, “I’m not usually here to leer. I’m here to keep my eye out for freaks. You know, for inspiration.”

“That’s right, you’re in film school, aren’t you?” Carly asked with interest, sidling closer to Jade.

“Yep,” Jade confirmed, “Just finished my first semester. But I’ve been making films ever since I had access to a camera.”

“She’s so good at it, too,” Tori cut in, while Cat hummed her own agreement emphatically.

Jade smiled, but perhaps to deflect from the sudden attention, she told Carly, “Tori’s in the UCLA School of Theater, Film and Television. It’s a competitive program.”

“Really?” Carly looked past her to Tori, “That’s really amazing, congratulations!”

“Uh, thanks,” Tori managed, “It’s...yeah, I’m in it…” she trailed off awkwardly.

Sam shot Cat a baffled look. Was Tori going to be this awkward the whole time? She may still be getting to know Tori, but she’d never known her to trip over her words quite this much. But Sam had mercy on her and shifted Carly’s attention, “Cat’s starting college next semester.”

“It’s community college,” Cat explained with a shrug. “Robbie and I are taking classes together. I don’t really know what I want to do, so, I just want to try different things.”

“That’s really cool. It must be nice to do college with a friend,” Carly replied.

Cat perked up at that. “It really is! Robbie’s good at all sorts of stuff I’m not good at, and he knows I can help him with things, too.”

“What are you studying, Carly?” Jade asked.

“Oh, I’m in a program for Digital Arts.”

“Yeah, her DIVA school,” Sam teased.

“That is, unfortunately, the name of the program,” Carly admitted.

Through all the conversation about school, Carly’s eye was wandering to various sights--a juggler, flashy t-shirts for sale, people grouped together on the sand casually passing a joint, skateboarders whizzing by. As Jade expressed interest in Carly’s college program (and so did Tori, a little too enthusiastically), Carly took out her phone and held it up.

“I’ve got to take a video of this for Spectrogram,” she told them all, and then her face split into a grin. “Hey, here I am on the Venice Beach boardwalk! I’m here with my friend Sam!” She slung an arm around Sam’s shoulder to bring her into the frame with her.

“Hey,” Sam waved and offered a performative grin.

“Anyway, we’re here hanging out, walking the boardwalk! I kind of can’t believe I’m here. Los Angeles itself has been a dream so far and I’m really happy to be visiting.” As she spoke, she shifted her phone so that she was presumably showing different things behind her--palm trees, shops, a street musician. And then she finished her video and slid her phone back in her pocket. “I’ve got to remember to document some of this stuff,” she explained.

“Like, for school?” Sam asked. It _was_ what they had just been talking about. Maybe the videos and pictures Carly was taking could be used in some way in her program; Sam didn’t really understand what it all entailed, anyway.

“No, silly,” Carly laughed, “For the memories. Because who knows when I’ll have the chance to come back here?”

She bumped Sam’s shoulder playfully as she spoke, and though Sam grinned at the contact, she felt a sinking sensation in her stomach at the idea that it would be a long time before Carly came back to Los Angeles.

She pushed it out of her mind. Carly was here now, and they still had days to spend together. But something must’ve shown on her face, because Cat took her hand and offered a squeeze, a sympathetic warmth in her dark eyes.

Sam wrapped her arm around Cat’s shoulder as they walked together, feeling the corresponding squeeze of Cat’s arm circling her waist. She enjoyed the warmth and presence of Cat tucked up next to her, the faint vanilla smell of her hair, the way she just felt _so right_ under her arm. She enjoyed the moment, watching Carly grin widely at the sights, watching Jade and Tori holding hands as they walked ahead of her, letting go of each other’s hands so that Jade could point out performers or souvenir artwork that made Tori grin, or to make note of advertised prices at the various pot “doctor” shops they passed.

They stopped at a clothing store for a bit, because Carly seemed to actually be considering a souvenir t-shirt to commemorate the day, which Sam refrained from teasing her about (Jade, however, did not refrain from teasing Tori about having the same taste in t-shirts as a tourist, which both Carly and Tori took in stride). Tori insisted that she and Jade wanted to buy Carly any shirt she wanted as a Christmas present, and in spite of being awkward in literally every other interaction of that day so far, Tori was adamant about this one, and won Carly over despite her initial objections. They hung around for a bit, browsing shirts, while Carly considered which one she wanted. Sam had to admit they weren’t all bad. She had a couple of Los Angeles themed shirts she was sure Jade would call “touristy” but she liked the look of some of them.

Maybe because she was actually browsing, it took her a moment to realize what was happening. It was Jade who sidled up to her and murmured, “Are those people out there watching us?”

Like a lot of storefronts on the boardwalk, the front entrance was wide open to the pedestrian pathway in front of it. Sam figured it would be better not to stare, and pretended to look at something closer to the front as she peeked out of the entrance. And, indeed, there was a cluster of people, watching and whispering. They weren’t looking at her, though. They were looking at Carly,

Sam ducked a little further back into the store, where Jade was; Tori was closer to Carly, appearing to idly chat about the clothes, while Cat was off on her own somewhere. “Shit. Carly’s Spectrogram video,” Sam murmured, putting together the pieces. “I don’t think she considered how easy it would be for people to find her.”

“I bet you’re right,” Jade murmured grimly, “Did this used to happen a lot in Seattle?”

“Not too often. We advertised a couple events on our show where people would know where she was, and it was always chaos. But in everyday life, not really.”

“How do we warn her?”

“Wait, I think she’s finishing up,” Sam murmured, “I’ll wait for her by the register, you go get Cat.”

Jade nodded and set off deeper into the shop to find Cat, and Sam waited near the register, which was just out of sight of the crowd outside, for Carly and Tori to come over, which they did a moment later, both laughing a little as Tori took the chosen t-shirt out of Carly's hands.

“Hey, it’s probably not a big deal,” Sam began as she pulled Carly closer to her, “But I think there’s a crowd of fans out there.”

Carly sighed, “I was afraid of that. And I bet they’ll have a field day when they see us together.”

“Probably,” Sam agreed. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m not freaking out or anything,” Carly replied, “Just not really sure what to do.”

“Well, what do you want to do? Like if they weren’t out there?”

“Keep exploring, I guess?”

“Then let’s do it. It’s LA. The people probably won’t be _that_ invasive.”

“Especially not to the brand of celebrity _we_ are,” Carly agreed.

Tori’s brow was furrowed as Jade spoke quietly with her and Cat, but she still flashed Carly a big grin as she passed her the bag with the shirt in it. “Here you go! Merry Christmas.”

“Thanks so much!” Carly smiled back, “You guys ready?”

And, with everyone trying to act like everything was normal, they left the shop. The way they’d been heading, further down the boardwalk, was where most of the crowd had gathered so, faltering only very slightly, Carly steered them in the opposite direction.

“You guys getting hungry?” Carly asked conversationally.

“I could eat,” Sam replied.

“Of course you could,” Cat teased.

But before anyone could even make a suggestion, Sam heard voices behind them, saying both Carly’s name and her own. She didn’t even have to glance over her shoulder to know the group of people was following them.

“Great,” Sam grumbled through her teeth.

And in moments, someone was calling, “Hey! _iCarly_! Sam and Carly! _iCarly_ is here!”

“Oh, geez, what do we do?” Carly asked.

“It’s worse to deny it or ignore it,” Jade advised, “I think.”

Taking a deep breath, Carly turned around to face the throng of people. “Uh, hey! Yeah, it’s me. I mean, it’s us.” She grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled her to stand next to her.

“Can we take your picture?” asked one young man, though people around him were not so polite, and PearPhones were already out.

“Sure!” Carly agreed anyway, and she and Sam stood posing, smiling woodenly, for a few moments, as Cat inched closer and closer, clearly trying to end up in some of the shots.

“Okay, we’ve got to go,” Sam said abruptly a few moments later.

“Wait!” someone called, “Can you sign this for me?”

“No, really,” Tori stepped in, her voice firm, “I’m sorry, our schedule is really tight today,” she lied, sounding like she was playing the role of some kind of agent. It reminded Sam, in the moment, that she was in an acting program at school. She could see why it suited Tori, even though Tori had also spent the whole day being awkward as hell around Carly.

“Nice save,” Carly murmured, for the ears of the group.

“Should we head for the car?” Jade asked uncertainly.

“I don’t know,” Carly began.

But then one of the people in the crowd bellowed, “Holy shit! Didn’t you sing during the Platinum Music Awards?”

“I did, yes,” Tori admitted in a small voice, eyes wide with shock.

And someone else chimed in, “That’s Tori Vega!”

Tori seemed frozen for a split second, as her name rippled through the crowd and the PearPhones rose back up to take pictures, and then she pushed blindly at Sam and Jade, “ _Run_! Run to the car!”

And, laughing and stumbling into each other, the five of them ran down the Venice Beach boardwalk, dodging slow-moving pedestrians, skirting street performers. Near her, Sam could hear Cat complain breathlessly, “Nobody wanted a picture of _me_! I’m a person!”

“Me, too, Cat,” Jade called back between puffs of air, “But I’m fine with it. I’m not gonna make movies for fame.”

When they finally piled back into Tori’s car, they’d lost most of the crowd of onlookers, as far as Sam could tell. God, she hated running, but at least she could do it if she needed to. Jade appeared to agree with her, and held her chest, wincing, as she climbed into the car. In their haste, Sam ended up in the middle of the back seat, which didn’t make much difference, since she was barely taller than Cat, anyway. It was Carly who spoke as she settled into her seat shoulder to shoulder with Sam, “What was that?” she panted, still laughing.

“I don’t know, I panicked!” Tori flailed her hands as she started her car.

“I’ve seen you handle encounters much more gracefully than that,” Jade accused. “But you’ve been pretty _unchill_ all day today,” she teased.

“I can’t help it,” Tori mumbled, forehead against the steering wheel.

While Jade patted Tori’s back reassuringly, Sam asked, “So again, do we want to get food?”

“Maybe somewhere a little further away from here,” Carly suggested.

Tori’s expression brightened, “How do you feel about sushi?” she asked, gazing at Carly and Sam in the rearview mirror.

“I like sushi,” Carly confirmed, while Sam just nodded.

Tori smiled mischievously, “Because I know a place where you just might get recognized, and the worst that will happen is you get photographed in exchange for a _lot_ of free food.”

“Yes,” Sam said immediately.

And that was how Sam learned about Tori and Jade’s long-standing hot and cold relationship with a fame-chasing restaurateur who, Sam had to say, made some damn good sushi.

-

By Sunday, Carly had really settled into being a guest at Sam and Cat’s. The weather was very pleasant, similar to Italy’s mild winter weather but even warmer and drier. The rainy winters in Florence reminded her of home, of Seattle, in that respect. Here in Los Angeles, it was weird to feel comfortable in a t-shirt when they went out during the day.

But Carly was having a great time. In spite of the fact that Sam always claimed she didn’t like to “do stuff,” they had gone out to explore parts of the city. They were limited to when Goomer was available to take them, since Sam only had a motorcycle and they all three couldn’t go anywhere on that. And with Goomer often came Dice. Carly didn’t mind. She liked getting a glimpse into what Sam’s life was like now, and the people that populated it.

When she thought about it, it made her sort of sad that Sam would never be able to come to Italy to see what her life was like, now, since Sam wasn’t supposed to enter the EU. But at least Carly had reasons to come to the US as regularly as possible. Seeing Spencer for the first time in almost two years had been amazing, almost as good as wrapping Sam in that long-overdue hug. And her brief visit with Freddie during the holiday chaos (in which she’d made him swear not to mention the fact that she was in the States to Sam) had been great; they’d bonded over college (Freddie still lived with his mother and commuted to Seattle Technology Institute) and women (Freddie wasn’t currently dating, but he claimed to have his eye on a girl in one of his classes). He hadn’t been particularly surprised to find out Carly was interested in women (she had begun identifying as bisexual, though honestly, it was hard to remember men existed when she looked at Amandine), and had joked that he was glad he’d gotten over her now that he had the whole population to compete with for her affection. That had earned him a fierce look, and then he looked appropriately ashamed, but Carly ended up laughing, anyway. It was nice just to feel accepted.

This evening was like many, in that they spent some time in the living room of Sam and Cat’s apartment, alternately chatting and watching television to wind the night down. They hadn’t eaten yet, and Cat was in the kitchen working on dinner. Carly actually really liked watching Cat cook, and helping when she was permitted, but Cat insisted that she and Sam continue the conversation they’d been having while she floated around the kitchen, since they were laughing and reminiscing about old times.

“And that was one of the many times Wendy almost got me expelled that I never told you about,” Sam finished a story that involved her and Wendy breaking into the cafeteria to steal hotdogs and leaving them in Mrs. Briggs’s desk.

“I don’t know why you kept that from me, you and I have done worse.”

“Nah,” Sam waved her hand, “You mean _I’ve_ done worse, and you took the fall.”

It wasn’t entirely accurate. Carly pushed back a little, “It wasn’t Wendy who got caught with me inside Mrs. Briggs’s house.”

“No, it was Freddie,” Sam corrected, “I got caught _outside_ her house.”

Leave it to Sam to remember the technicalities for all her misdeeds. “Okay, fair.”

“I guess there was a lot I didn’t tell you about me and Wendy,” Sam admitted, “Seemed safer just to not say anything sometimes.”

“I _still_ can’t believe you guys fingered each other in the janitor’s closet. _At school_.” Sam blushed. Carly glanced over her shoulder, but Cat didn’t seem to react to the topic. In fact, she didn’t seem to be listening at all. “It _was_ just like... _fingering_ that you guys did, right?” Carly asked, her tone quiet and curious.

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed quietly. Though, Carly was pretty sure she was trying not to laugh at Carly for whisper-shouting “fingering” at her.

Carly didn’t think that Sam had done much more. But then, they hadn’t really video chatted in a couple of weeks because Carly had recently arrived in Seattle on Friday night and there would have been no way to pretend she was in Italy. She’d used the excuse of her dad being home for Christmas (which, he was, since they were both in Seattle). But maybe Sam and Cat had done more since they’d last talked about sex. “So, wait,” Carly asked in a subdued tone, “Have you ever like, gone down on a girl?”

“No,” Sam breathed, leaning closer, “Have _you_?” Her tone was simultaneously awed and envious.

Carly smirked, unable to hide her glee. “Before I left Italy...Amandine and I got to try it. And it was…” She took a deep breath, remembering all the feelings it had ignited in her. The sensations in all of it, the intense pleasure of Amandine’s mouth moving over her, and the deep satisfaction of returning that same powerful euphoria to her lover, of letting her senses be enveloped by the whole experience, letting her mind be enraptured by the potent bliss of feeling Amandine come against her lips. “It was really amazing,” she stated, knowing it was an understatement, but not sure she had any other words.

“Damn,” Sam murmured, “That’s…” she shook her head, groping for words, “I can’t wait,” she finally stated.

“I can’t wait until you do it, either,” Carly enthused, “You’ll have to tell me everything.”

Sam’s pale cheeks flushed rosy pink. “Oh, I will,” she muttered, glancing behind her slightly toward where Cat was engrossed in cooking.

Or so Carly thought.

They ate dinner together, all three of them on the couch, watching ridiculous television and laughing together. Once Sam had gathered all the dishes and rinsed them in the sink (apparently the housework arrangement that worked for her and Cat), Cat coaxed her to go take her shower. Grumbling, Sam meandered off to the bedroom to do exactly that, leaving Carly and Cat on the couch together.

For a few minutes, they continued watching _American Pipers_ together, but then Cat glanced behind her, over the back of the couch, and then leaned toward Carly. “So you’ve…” she seemed to choose her words very carefully, and the next part was a mere whisper, “Done, you know...oral?”

Carly’s eyes widened. She’d had no idea Cat had been listening to her earlier conversation with Sam, had honestly thought Cat _couldn’t_ hear them, but apparently she’d been listening discreetly while she cooked. “I have,” Carly tilted her head, “You heard that?”

Cat nodded, “Mmhmm,” she confirmed, “I’m just _really_ curious about it, what was it like?”

It was a little odd, she supposed, to be talking to Cat about this. Not really because they’d only just officially met a few days ago; Carly had quickly grown comfortable in Cat’s presence and already knew she liked her a lot, but more because of the fact that it left Carly considering that Cat was thinking about doing this with _Sam_ , and anything Carly advised might directly impact Sam’s experience. “Well...I think it’s really fun,” Carly began, which made Cat smile eagerly, “But I think really the best advice I can give about it is to communicate about what feels good.”

“I think Sam can do that,” Cat said thoughtfully, “I think I’m most excited to _do_ it,” she confessed, blushing in much the same way Carly had seen Sam blush earlier.

“I think Sam would really, really like that,” Carly replied, smiling without trying to seem overly invested in her best friend’s oral sex endeavors.

“I hope so,” Cat smiled back.

-

On New Year’s Eve, Beck was throwing a party at his trailer. Because his trailer was the site of so many cast parties and post-performance bashes, he’d decided they should ring in the new year by commemorating graduation, and made the theme of the party a “reunion showcase.” That meant everybody was going to perform some of their favorite songs or stage roles for each other as they all reminisced about being in high school together. Cat was really looking forward to it. Though she could recognize now that she spent a lot of high school in a sort of muddled haze, she had also been surrounded by friends, and really, she had fun almost every single day.

Sam and Carly were going to the party with her, of course, even though they hadn’t gone to Hollywood Arts. But they were performers, too, so Cat thought they would have a good time even though they hadn’t been present for the initial showings at school. She knew Sam seemed to enjoy spending time with her high school friends, particularly Jade. And Carly was a very easygoing guest, and seemed excited for any kind of party.

Tori and Jade came by to pick them up, even though it was well out of their way to do so. But their other option would have been to ask Goomer, and it seemed rude to ask him for a ride to a party he wasn’t invited to. Cat still didn’t have her license, though it was something she did want to learn eventually, and Sam didn’t seem interested in driving anything except her motorcycle. For the most part, that was fine, but Cat wondered if someday it might be a problem that their only form of transportation didn’t really give them room to carry much of anything.

And they did have to pack more for this trip, because it was also a campout. They borrowed a tent from Dice, who had been in the Boy Scouts for a little while, and brought a bunch of blankets so they could be sure they’d stay warm. There was only so much room in Beck’s RV, and to keep it fair, everyone was planning to sleep in tents in the yard.

Tori and Jade already had their own camping supplies in the back of Tori’s station wagon, because they, of course, were sharing a tent. But there was plenty of room for everything as they loaded up the car to head back across town. Cat slid into the middle seat, hesitating because she wondered if Sam wanted to sit next to Carly, but it seemed fine.

As Tori took them out of their neighborhood, Carly asked, “So who’s going to be there?”

Cat realized she hadn’t told Carly much of what to expect, except for the performance element, and apparently Sam hadn’t either. But then, these weren’t primarily Sam’s friends. “Well, it’s at Beck’s,” Cat began to explain. “He’s...well, I originally met him through Jade.”

“You can say it,” Jade said from the front passenger’s seat, turning to look at Carly. “He’s my ex-boyfriend. But we broke up a long time ago and we’re cool now.”

“Drama-free friendship,” Tori confirmed, meeting Cat’s eye in the rearview mirror.

“That’s great,” Carly replied, “It can be scary when you worry a breakup is going to destroy a friend group.”

Sam leaned forward to look past Cat at Carly, “Hey, Freddie and I did fine.”

“You did,” Carly confirmed, “But considering it was hard enough for you two to be in the same room when you _were_ dating...yeah, I was a little worried about what it might be like when you stopped.”

Sam scoffed, and Cat pushed back to the topic at hand. “Beck lives in an RV in his parents’ yard, so he has a lot of privacy. He was always an actor back in school, but right now, he put off college to do a lot of modeling.”

Carly nodded, “So this is also why we’re camping, since Beck just has an RV.”

“Right,” Cat nodded. “Andre will also be there.”

“My best friend,” Tori cut in, flashing a grin at the mirror.

“He was definitely the most talented musician in our class, maybe the whole school while we were there. He can play basically any instrument you put in his hands. He’s at UCLA studying music.”

“Seems a good fit,” Carly nodded.

“He and Beck are also the first people I ever smoked weed with,” Jade informed Carly, “So if you’re looking to try anything tonight, they’ll be glad to hook you up.”

“There’s also gonna be alcohol if you don’t want to, Carls,” Sam leaned forward again.

“No, I think I might like to try it,” Carly said thoughtfully. “No one offered me any in Italy yet.”

“And then Robbie will be there, too,” Cat said, “He’s one of my best friends, the one I told you was starting college with me next semester. He’s always working on his comedy. And he’s an amazing ventriloquist.”

“It’s just easier if you accept right now that Rex is his own person,” Tori suggested.

“Rex is Robbie’s puppet, but _never_ call him that,” Jade clarified.

“Okay…” Carly seemed to think that over, but didn’t ask any questions. “So Beck, Andre, and Robbie and Rex.”

“I think that’s it,” Cat said. “Unless, your sister…?” she asked, in Tori’s direction.

“No, she wasn’t invited,” Tori replied.

“Thank god,” Jade murmured.

“She did sometimes hang out with us, though,” Cat shrugged.

“Well, it sounds like it’ll be fun,” Carly enthused, “I’m really happy to be invited!”

“We’re really happy to have you join us!” Tori said, just slightly too quickly and enthusiastically. Jade glanced at her, a little incredulous, and Cat could see Tori blush slightly in the rearview mirror. Next to her, Sam stifled a chuckle.

Parking near Beck’s house was always a little difficult, but Tori found a spot in front of a couple houses down. But between the five of them, they were able to gather all of their bags and camping supplies from the car and carry it all down the street. It was already well into the evening, which meant the sky was dark, but the street was at least well lit, and so was Beck’s yard. Andre and Robbie had already arrived, and were working to pitch a tent on the grass. After a round of hugs and official introductions to Carly, the five women started the work of putting up their own tents.

Cat was sharing Dice’s tent with Sam and Carly. He’d told them it was a four-person tent, and it did look pretty big as they laid it out and began the work of putting it together. Cat had been to theater camp in middle school, but it wasn’t the sort of camp that taught wilderness skills; they all slept in cabins. Carly was the one who took charge of reading the instructions and guiding Cat and Sam as they tried to make sense of the directions.

Next to them, Tori and Jade didn’t seem to be faring much better, and were bickering as they pored over their own instructions. When the boys finally got their own tent pitched (which it seemed they’d struggled with a bit, though not as loudly), they came over to help, seeming emboldened by their success. Andre offered to help Tori and Jade (probably wise, since Cat thought he might be the only three of the guys Jade would’ve actually accepted help from), while Beck came over to lend a hand with Cat’s group. Robbie merely stood between them awkwardly, offering light suggestions or encouragement. Cat was sure this was as much outside his wheelhouse as hers. Though they were figuring out how the tent worked pretty well on their own, Beck was actually a big help, mostly because he was much taller than Cat or Sam, and it was easier for him to reach to fix snags as they actually started to raise up the tent.

Eventually, all the tents were properly pitched, and everyone seemed relieved and happy, and spread out their bedding so they wouldn’t have to wrestle with it later after a long night of partying. By the time the sleeping areas were laid out in their tent and their bags were shoved into one side, though, Dice’s four-person tent looked like it would barely fit the three of them. But Cat felt confident it would work.

Jade crawled out of the neighboring tent, still looking a little sour after the experience of setting it up. “After that, I need a drink or some weed. Or both.”

“Got you covered either way,” Beck assured her, offering a hand to help her to her feet, which Jade ignored completely.

“Jade and I still have some of what we had over Christmas,” Tori reported, “Just waiting for another special occasion.”

“You’ve got a pipe, right?” Andre asked Beck, “I left mine in my car.”

“Sure do,” Beck ushered them into the trailer, “I take it I don’t have to go into my speech about my breathalyzer machine with this group,” Beck smiled, and his eyes flicked to Carly and he offered a brief explanation, “My buddy Sinjin made this machine that makes sure nobody drives drunk. Everybody is _positive_ they have everything they need out of their cars?” There was a murmur of assent, and then Beck opened his machine and everyone dropped their car keys inside. “Drinks are in that red cooler,” he directed people, and he caught Cat’s eye and smiled, “And if anyone just wants soda or water instead, the blue cooler,” he pointed toward the other end of the space.

Cat chose a bottle of Blue Dog and took a seat next to Robbie on Beck’s couch as everybody else crowded around the cooler with the alcohol. Beck was bending over a stack of suitcases--what passed for a table in his RV--presumably packing weed into his pipe. Cat had never minded being one of the sober ones at events like this, and ever since she was put on her first medication she was aware that she needed to avoid alcohol. She’d been curious, but given her lack of control surrounding Bibble, she thought it was ultimately for the best that she’d never really tried it. Her friends had never pushed her or made fun of her, and that was a relief, and Robbie had always been another sober presence beside her. She wondered, sometimes, if he was curious, too, if his commitment to abstaining was a holdover from his crush on her. Cat couldn’t make the decision to drink because of her medication, but Robbie could. She wondered how it might feel if one day he decided he might want to not stay sober, if she would be okay with being the only one not indulging at a party.

But it appeared it wasn’t going to be something she had to worry about at the moment, as Robbie clinked his Wahoo Punch bottle with her Blue dog and they watched their friends pull out hard lemonades or, in the case of Beck and Sam, beer. She could hear Carly explaining that the drinking age in Italy was eighteen, having recently changed from sixteen, so it felt weird to be in a place where it was technically illegal to consume alcohol. Sam countered that there were so many dumb rules, anyway, it didn’t matter to her. Jade assured everybody that at least several of them had medical marijuana cards so on that end, they were covered, and Beck added that his parents didn’t care as long as no one got hurt and that he was friendly with all his neighbors, so they weren’t about to get into trouble. “Besides,” he continued, “My RV muffles sound pretty well.”

“Yeah, we know your RV is basically impenetrable,” Andre said emphatically, “After we almost _died_ in here.”

Sam looked up, “Who almost died in here?” she asked with interest.

“I don’t remember almost dying in here,” Cat frowned, wondering if this was another case of her faulty memory at work.

“Well, _you_ didn’t,” Robbie said. Cat tried to remember.

It must’ve been clear that she didn’t know what Robbie was talking about, because Jade elaborated, “It was that day we all took Beck’s RV to the beach. You jumped out as soon as we parked to find a bathroom, and the rest of us got trapped inside the RV when another vehicle blocked our door out. And then you were gone for _hours_ while we _suffered_ ,” she finished sharply.

“It was the first time I ever saw Jade sweat,” Tori announced, a suggestive lilt to her voice. Jade looked at her, eyes wide as if in warning.

Cat could see Carly and Sam were trying to follow the details of this story (the anecdote about Jade sweating appeared to confuse them both), but then they were both looking at Cat, as if waiting for her to confirm. And Cat did remember. She grinned, “That was a really fun day! I met some really nice guys on my way back from the bathroom, and then we all went to the beach!”

“Yeah, well the price of your fun was us almost cooking to death,” Jade sneered, though it wasn’t malicious.

Sam glanced at Carly, “Well, we never almost died in an RV, unless you count Spencer’s driving, but...I’d say we’ve had a few brushes with death.”

“You got that right,” Carly agreed.

But before they could spin any tales, Beck rose and indicated he’d packed a bowl. “Anyone want to smoke?”

The group headed outside so most of them could smoke, but once out there, Beck frowned, patting his pockets. “Uh, hold on.” He passed the piece to Andre and headed back into the RV for a minute. Cat stood off to the side with Robbie, watching their friends idly sip their drinks, until Beck poked his head out of the trailer. “Anybody got a light? I can’t find my lighter.”

Andre groaned, “Mine’s in the car, but I dunno if I can get past your breathalyzer.”

“Okay, first of all, you’d be fine, you’re not a lightweight like Tori,” Jade jabbed playfully, which made Tori emit an indignant sort of gasp, “But like if literally all you’re doing is getting a lighter, Cat or Robbie can open it for you.”

“Still rather not walk all the way to my car,” Andre insisted, which made Cat realize the breathalyzer had just been an excuse. “No one else has a light?”

Tori shook her head, “My lighter’s in my room at home. Not really in the habit of carrying one around since Jade and I don’t smoke that often.”

Sam nodded in agreement at this, “I like things that make fire, but yeah, mine are at home.”

“Wait a minute,” Robbie said, “Here, Beck, what about this?”

There was a little charcoal barbeque grill that sat in Beck’s driveway. Cat wasn’t sure if it was his or his parents’, but it was nearby, and Robbie trotted over to it and picked up a long-stemmed kitchen lighter that was being kept hanging off the side of the grill.

“Here’s a lighter,” he offered, passing it to Beck.

Beck stared at it impassively, and Cat wasn’t sure if he was about to laugh at Robbie or acquiesce to the suggestion, but ultimately, he shrugged. “You know, this might work in a pinch.”

“And we’re in a pinch, ‘cause I’m not walking down to my car,” Andre insisted. Andre wasn’t usually this inflexible. Probably he, like everyone, was still winding down from the stress of setting up all the tents.

“Okay, so,” Beck turned to Carly, “Carly, since you’re new to hanging out with us, would you like to go first?”

“Um, wow. Sure,” she replied, taking the glass pipe. Sam showed her how to use it, and Carly awkwardly held the long kitchen lighter up to it, but the angle made it particularly odd. Sam ended up taking the lighter for her and holding it briefly to the weed while Carly inhaled, lighting it for her. Carly coughed madly and handed off the smoky pipe to her friend, “Oh, god,” she managed between coughs, “That’s a lot.”

“It gets easier,” Sam assured her. Cat couldn’t help but grin. Sam had only done this a few times, and she was talking like a pro. But then, she guessed, Tori and Jade had done something similar with Sam, offered reassurances when it was clear this was something they indulged in rarely.

It became quickly clear that it was just easier for someone else to wield the long lighter, so the group lit each other’s hits as the pipe made its way around the circle. It looked kind of ridiculous, but Cat also liked how helpful it was, how it seemed to contribute to the group experiences of sharing the weed. Even though she’d only partaken just the once, and hated it, Cat could see the appeal of the shared experience. It was why she and Robbie were right there with their friends, on the sidelines but still involved in the chatter and laughter as people indulged together.

“The way you’re all helping each other with the lighter,” Cat remarked, “It’s really nice.” She grinned as she said it. Really, it made her so happy to watch, which she supposed might sound silly.

It apparently sounded silly to Jade, because she just squinted at Cat. “What?”

Cat opened her mouth to reiterate her sentiment, but to her surprise, Carly beat her to it, “No, Cat’s right,” she agreed, gazing off into the distance thoughtfully, “It’s really nice that we’re all helping each other out like this. I kind of love it.”

Tori was immediately on board. “Yes,” she agreed emphatically, pointing at Carly. Andre bobbed his head a few times, expression open in acknowledgement, Beck tilted his head thoughtfully but ultimately nodded, Sam’s frown faded and she shrugged, Robbie hummed his agreement next to her.

Only Jade appeared unmoved. “Sure, sure, we love to see it,” she replied sarcastically, “Now, _Tori_ , help me,” she held the pipe up to her lips and waited for Tori to light it, which Tori jumped to do eagerly.

Cat caught Carly’s eye and they grinned at each other. Carly’s expression was especially relaxed from the weed, but Cat could tell she’d genuinely enjoyed Cat’s observation of the helpfulness of the circle. It was nice to feel understood.

Once the pipe was empty, everyone seemed ready to head inside and get the reunion showcase started. Cat was eager to go first. Unlike her friends, Cat hadn’t had much of a chance to enjoy performance in a while, because she wasn’t in school for the kind of art she wanted to make, or already working, like Beck was with his modeling.

Cat had decided to perform the final scene from _Well Wishes_ , the play Jade had written and directed during their sophomore year. Cat had been a part of so many other performances that brought her joy--Sikowitz productions, songs Andre had written that she’d performed with him or Tori or Jade, but _Well Wishes_ had always stood out to her. It was different from a lot of what they performed at school; Sikowitz tended to like absurd shows with an element of humor. Jade’s work was darker (shocking) and the play itself had been a great opportunity for Cat to test her range and try new things, since she was the only person onstage for most of it. It was a great memory, and one she trusted. On evenings, trying to wind down so that she and Sam would behave and not get too wound up while they had a houseguest, Cat had worked on studying the show, relearning her old lines. It was amazing to her how much had stayed in her memory over the years.

She could see Jade watching with her hand covering her mouth as Cat performed the scene. She was really relishing the chance to delve into something like this again. She tried not to look directly at anyone, but especially not at Sam, who, aside from her Baberaham Lincoln one woman show, hadn’t really seen her do much acting. And this was a _very_ different kind of acting.

When she was finished, her friends all applauded, and Cat took a bow before hurrying back over to sit next to Sam. “That was amazing,” Sam murmured to her.

“You think so?” Cat asked eagerly.

Jade echoed the sentiment a moment later as the applause died down, “Cat, you were so good. Sorry my writing was so bad back then,” she shuddered.

Tori looked at her, “Don’t say that! That was a great play, I was so glad I got to help you with it.”

Jade waved off anything else anyone might be trying to say, “I just know I’ve gotten better. But then, so has Cat.”

Next Andre beckoned Tori up to help him sing a song. It was clear they hadn’t had a chance to rehearse it or anything, because Tori murmured, “Which one are we singing?” Cat couldn’t quite hear Andre’s answer, but saw Tori’s face brighten and she grinned, “ _Oh_.”

“Thought you might like that,” Andre grinned, and passed Tori a piece of paper, apparently with lyrics on it, and began strumming his guitar.

It was definitely a song Cat recognized, vaguely, one Andre and Tori had certainly performed at school. There had been so many of them over the years; the two friends were excellent collaborators and performers. Tori dropped a few bars of the song at different times, maybe uncertain of her harmonies, but mostly sang along beautifully with Andre. At the last note of the song, the two of them grinned at each other joyfully and embraced.

“Thank you,” Andre gave Tori an extra squeeze, “That was _365 Days_ , a song I wrote junior year.”

“A _very_ special song,” Tori wiggled her eyebrows at Jade, then turned pleading eyes to Andre, who shrugged and made a welcoming gesture. “This is the song Andre wrote when he got a crush on you,” she revealed in a rush. “And since I’m in love with you…” And in moments, they were kissing, right there on the edge of Beck’s bed.

Cat watched them, appreciating the obvious affection between them, but it was clear that some of their friends were a little less comfortable with the extended kisses, though Robbie seemed to be in Cat’s boat, too. But Beck cleared his throat, “Um, who’s next?”

“Oh, we should go,” Tori bounced back up on her feet, grabbing Jade’s hands. Jade snagged Tori’s huge purse and the two of them walked to the other side of the trailer, near Beck’s now-empty fishtank, turning their backs to everybody for a moment. Jade was clearly pulling something on over her head but it was unclear what Tori was doing until they turned back around. Tori wore a moustache, and Jade wore an apron.

“Ohh,” Andre nodded, “You need us?” he gestured to himself and Beck.

“You can just deliver your lines from where you are, if you remember them,” Tori was already speaking in a lower voice, spine already straighter, moving with a different sort of confidence as she and Jade took their places in the middle of the RV.

And then they launched into the final scene of _The Narcoleptic Astronaut_ , in which they exchanged vows of loving each other, but instead of hugging, they kissed. Cat grinned. She remembered the night of the cast party for that show, the way Tori and Jade had, seemingly overnight, gone from being unable to stand each other to being unable to be apart. The way they’d shown the friend group a bunch of practice kisses they’d considered for the finale of this scene and then had gone to the bathroom in the poolhouse together, and proceeded to be interrupted from a makeout session by Cat herself, though she was polite enough to pretend not to notice.

None of the potential kisses Tori and Jade had demonstrated at that cast party rivaled the kiss they exchanged now, as Nancy and Walter, though after they pulled apart and took their bows, Jade fingered Tori’s moustache, “You _really_ kiss better without this.”

“I like it,” Tori slapped her hand away.

“Now do the kiss with all the slapping!” Cat encouraged with a clap, remembering all the stage kisses the two had performed for the group back then.

“No,” Jade said, at the same time that Tori’s eyes lit up and she said, “Oh, that might be fun!”

“You want to?” Jade asked, a little surprised.

“Why not?” Tori shrugged. She squared off, facing Jade, who mimicked her action. “You ready?” she asked her.

“Sure,” Jade replied, watching her. Neither moved for a beat, and Jade’s lip twitched. “You have to fall asleep, remember?” Her tone was a mild challenge.

“Okay, but are you going to scream at me?”

“Yes,” Jade confirmed decisively.

“Okay. Let me prepare myself.” Tori took a breath. “Okay.”

They stared at one another for one more long moment, and then Tori’s eyes began to flutter shut and her head drooped down. “Walter, wake up!” Jade shrieked, her hand flying up to slap Tori in the face. It wasn’t a hard slap by any means, but Cat was pretty sure it did actually connect with Tori’s face.

“Blast-off!” Tori screamed as the slap connected, and then her hand flew up to slap Jade back.

Jade’s jaw went slack as her hand came up to her cheek. Tori hadn’t hit back hard, either, but Jade clearly hadn’t been expecting it. She stared at Tori, eyes smoldering in a way that made Tori look back with open-mouthed nervousness, and then they were crashing together in another kiss, this one slightly wilder. They pulled back in a moment, as if realizing the kiss was getting quickly inappropriate, and turned away from each other to offer another bow, then went to take their seats again amidst the applause.

“Was it the slap kisses that started things between you two?” Cat teased, because she certainly remembered the way even a few years ago, there was a lot of volatility in that moment between them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jade said smoothly, “Tori and I started dating a while after that show.”

Cat frowned and, okay, she knew most people weren’t like herself and Sam, and didn’t exchange declarations of love after a first kiss, but she was _certain_ … “Well, that play certainly changed _something_ between you two.”

“Yeah, it did,” Andre agreed, and the other former Hollywood Arts students, even Beck, nodded emphatically.

“Okay, yes, sure, it _changed_ things for us,” Tori began, “But--”

“Again, we didn’t start dating until much later,” Jade repeated.

For whatever reason, Jade was sensitive about this. Maybe because they were in Beck’s RV. But that relationship was long over.

“Who wants to go next?” Andre asked.

Next to Cat, Sam nudged Carly, “Carly and I can go,” she suggested, “I know we didn’t go to your school, but Cat thought you might enjoy it if we did something, anyway.”

“By all means,” Andre grinned. “I’m pretty sure we’re all familiar with your show.”

“Tori and I used to watch it at sleepovers,” Cat announced.

“I know Beck used to watch,” Jade said casually. She paused. “Come to think of it, I think I stopped watching around the time I realized Beck was watching.”

Beck sighed heavily, and pointed at a dent above the door to the RV. “See that dent? Yeah, Jade put that there. Because she heard what turned out to be Carly’s voice in here and thought there was someone in here with me and we had a _huge_ fight. She also broke my door.”

“Well, in _part_ because you wouldn’t tell me if you thought she was _pretty_ or not,” Jade returned sharply. “At least Tori can be honest about that.”

Tori blushed and Beck pressed his lips together in mild frustration, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile all the same. “Wow. Sorry about that,” Carly laughed. “But you do think I’m pretty, right?” she asked Beck directly, “Because you’re pretty.”

He looked very surprised, and Sam snorted laughter, but Beck said, “Of course I do.”

“Hah!” Jade pointed at him, then settled back down. “I knew it.”

“Okay, so you all used to watch us, so you know the kind of ridiculous stuff we get into.” Sam stood up, “Beck, may we have a word?” Sam turned and offered Cat a wink before heading outside the RV with Beck and Carly.

-

Minutes later, Sam came back into the RV with Beck and Carly; Beck was carrying a small dish of the warm nacho cheese that had been waiting in a crockpot in the poolhouse for them to enjoy, and she and Carly were grinning at each other excitedly. Other than the skit they’d improvised for Cat with Sam’s bacon moustache, this was their first time doing something classic _iCarly_ together, and Sam was excited about it. Lots about their show was ridiculous, she could admit, especially a lot of their early work, but they weren’t exactly trying to make fine art. They were trying to have fun together, to make people laugh, and their irreverence for any kind of traditional show format had resonated with people, making them unexpectedly popular. It was still crazy to think about.

And now, Beck was placing the dish of nacho cheese on his stack of suitcases in the middle of the room, and began to move back to his spot on the floor. “Ah ah,” Carly reached out and grabbed his arm, “Nope, we still need you.”

“Uh,” Beck flashed a disarming grin at them, “You do?”

“Mmhmm.” Carly set down the small wooden table that usually sat outside the RV, “Have a seat.”

Beck did, looking baffled. Sam caught Carly’s eye, and then Carly turned and flashed a grin at the others. “I’m Carly!”

“And I’m Sam!”

“And this is _iCarly_ ,” they cried in unison. Their spectators clapped; even Tori, whose attention had been almost fully on Jade, turned toward them excitedly as they started talking. Cat actually cheered.

“We’re here with our new friend Beck,” Carly gestured to him, “Say hi, Beck!”

“Hi,” Beck smiled and waved.

Sam draped the faded old beach towel Beck had lent them over his shoulders. “Beck has been such a gracious host,” she began.

“We’d like to repay him,” Carly continued.

Sam was already grinning. They were in sync tonight. “By giving him…” she paused, and together they called, “A nacho cheese facial!”

“What?” Beck started to stand, “No, what?”

Sam and Carly each put a hand on his shoulder and sat him back down. Carly grinned at him, “You’ll like it,” she assured him, “Promise,” she winked.

Beck looked back at her warily, but stopped trying to get up.

“And don’t worry, folks,” Sam assured the others, “There’s still plenty of nacho cheese for us all to enjoy!”

“All right, Beck, you ready?” Carly asked.

“I...guess?”

And then, she and Carly began scooping cheese out of the little bowl and slathering it on Beck’s face. At first, he flinched away. “Watch the hair,” he warned.

“Oh, you’re fine,” Sam told him, rubbing some cheese on his forehead.

“It actually feels kind of nice,” Beck admitted after a minute.

“And there you have it, folks,” Carly exclaimed, “Nacho cheese facials--feel kinda nice, probably not good for the skin.”

“Probably not,” Sam agreed.

“Wait,” Beck frowned.

“Thanks for joining us, Beck,” Carly wiped her hands on the beach towel, and Sam mimicked her.

“And thanks for tuning in,” Sam addressed the others, who then broke into applause.

“Yeah, I’m gonna…” Beck hurried out of the RV, presumably to wash his face.

“Guess we’ll wash our hands after he’s done,” Carly threatened to touch Sam’s face with the nacho cheese residue left on her palms, but Sam jumped away.

“That was just like watching your show,” Cat gushed happily.

“It really was,” Tori agreed, grinning. “Oh! While we’re waiting for Beck. Maybe you can borrow my moustache, my favorite sketch was always The Cowboy and The Idiot Farmgirl--”

“Nope!” Carly declared, “Not taking requests!”

“Oh,” Tori looked disappointed, but Jade whispered something in her ear that made her smile.

“It’s not quite the same without Freddie,” Carly observed.

“What? Like Freddie did anything,” Sam scoffed. It wasn’t serious, it was just her typical reaction to degrade Freddie’s contribution. Carly simply rolled her eyes.

“Hey! Freddie was my favorite part,” Robbie frowned.

“She’s joking,” Cat assured him, “Freddie’s one of her best friends.”

It seemed to placate Robbie, and moments later, Beck came back, his hair slightly less coiffed from getting wet when he’d obviously washed his face. Though, he ran a hand through it and it looked almost perfect once again. _Hair models_ , Sam thought. She and Carly hurried to the poolhouse bathroom to wash the cheese off their hands.

“I thought that went well,” Carly said as she soaped up her hands.

“Same,” Sam agreed, “It _is_ kinda weird without Freddie,” she admitted.

“Right? It’s harder when you don’t know where to look.” She paused to reach for the hand towel, drying her hands while Sam finished rinsing hers. “I missed doing stuff like this with you.”

“I know what you mean,” Sam replied, trying to keep her voice from betraying too much of her wistfulness. “Like, I know I’m somewhere that’s full of opportunities to perform if I wanted to, but...It doesn’t sound that fun without you.”

“Yeah,” Carly’s voice was soft, “Most things just aren’t as fun without my best friend.” She passed Sam the hand towel, and they watched each other, wordlessly, both aware that Carly’s visit would be coming to an end soon. Sam already felt the sadness welling up, swirling through her stomach like she’d eaten a bad batch of chocolates, and she didn’t want to deal with it, but seeing it reflected on Carly’s face made her wonder if she had to, in the moment.

“Carls,” she murmured, trying to figure out what to even _say_ , when abruptly, they heard giggling outside the bathroom door. Sam pushed it open to find Tori and Jade, hands all over each other, scurrying down the poolhouse hallway toward the bathroom.

“Whoops,” Tori laughed, “You done in there? We need to wazz.”

“Yeah, we’re done,” Sam replied, tugging Carly gently by the arm as they left the bathroom. She glanced back to see Jade tugging Tori into the bathroom with her, which made Sam pretty sure it wasn’t wazzing that the two of them needed to do. She picked up the pace to give them some privacy, and maybe to avoid talking about premature goodbyes with Carly, who trailed along behind her.

They came back to the RV to find Beck about to do a dramatic monologue, which he did well, though Sam was having trouble paying attention. She was getting hungry, honestly, but these theater kids seemed to think food should come after performances. She should’ve grabbed something while they were in the poolhouse. Instead, she held Cat close to her as they listened to Beck’s monologue, then Robbie encouraged him to show them all different hair modeling poses, which was fun and silly, at least.

And then Robbie picked up Rex, who he hadn’t kept with him much that evening, and the two of them started on some kind of comedy routine, in which it was clear Rex was the funny one, and Robbie was just there to be tormented by him. It _was_ pretty funny, and not just because they were mostly all still pretty high, it was getting some genuine laughter out of Sam, and the rest of the group. When it was over, Cat was full of praise.

“Robbie!” she exclaimed, “That was so good!”

“Yeah,” Andre realized, “I don’t think I remember that act from high school, was that new stuff you’re working on?”

“Sure is,” Robbie said proudly, “Rex and I are changing up our routine a little bit.”

“Well, it’s great,” Beck said easily.

“Thanks!” Robbie looked particularly pleased, “Kinda bummed Jade and Tori missed it.”

Sam had been too distracted by her thoughts to realize that Jade and Tori still hadn’t come back from the bathroom, but before anyone would speculate about why, the two of them were stepping back into the trailer, still hardly daring to put any space between them.

“Sorry! Were you guys waiting for us?” Tori asked. There was a telltale flush on both their cheeks, and Jade wore a lazy grin that was unusual for her.

“No, we continued without you,” Beck said evenly.

“Oh, what’d we miss?” Tori asked.

“Hey, Tori,” Sam asked, realizing something, “Where’s your moustache?”

Tori’s eyes widened and her gaze fell to Jade’s legs, covered by her tights and skirt. “Uh,” she said, grabbing Jade’s hand, “We’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, better go peel that moustache off of Jade’s inner thigh!” Sam called after her.

“ _Sam_!” Cat giggled against her shoulder.

“What? I’m right,” she said confidently. The stifled laughter from everyone else just confirmed it.

They gave Tori and Jade a few minutes to...recover Tori’s moustache and then Beck was leading them all to the poolhouse, where they enjoyed little bowls of nachos until pizza arrived, and then they just sort of stuffed themselves silly. Another bowl was packed in the pipe, more drinks were opened, and they were all getting sillier. Sam chewed eye and mouth holes out of a slice of pizza and went around speaking as it for a few minutes until she got too hungry to keep it up. Robbie had never put down Rex since their performance, so the conversation was peppered with snarky asides from Robbie’s cocky, confident counterpart. Andre was strumming his guitar at random, making music to add to the atmosphere of the evening. Beck kept asking very stoned meaning of life questions, like, “If the universe is expanding, are we getting bigger? How would we tell?” Carly was wondering aloud whether a nacho cheese foot bath would be great or terrible. Cat was staying tucked up close to Sam, affectionate, amused, and clearly having a great time with her friends. Jade was softer than Sam had ever seen her (Sam was pretty sure she’d guessed right about what had gone on in that bathroom), grinning and looping her arms around Tori, who was alternately humming tunes along with Andre’s guitar playing and seeming to try to work up the courage to say something interesting to Carly.

The party shifted and spread between the poolhouse, being outside to smoke weed, and the RV as the evening went on. Most of it was just a kind of blurry fun time, but at a certain point, just after someone realized it was past midnight and they’d totally missed the New Year countdown, Beck started encouraging everyone to drink water, and to gather up all the bottles and cans and put them in the recycling bin. Maybe because they were sober, Robbie and Cat seemed willing to help with the endeavor, even going outside and into the poolhouse to make sure they’d gathered everything recyclable. There wasn’t much food left, but Beck encouraged everyone to finish off what they wanted, and after everyone had managed a couple of bottles of water, the party began to wind down, and it was time to retreat to the tents.

It was late, which meant it was probably the coldest part of the night. Sam knew that in most places, you couldn’t sleep in a tent in December or January, but this was Los Angeles. Of course, that didn’t mean it wasn’t _cold_ , it just meant you wouldn’t freeze. Because it was pretty damn chilly outside.

Luckily, Beck had advised everyone to prepare for this, which meant warm pajamas and plenty of blankets. They all took turns getting ready for bed in the poolhouse bathroom, which actually didn’t take too long, since most of them were probably too tired and intoxicated to do much more than change clothes and half-heartedly brush their teeth. That was all Sam did, anyway. They all climbed into their tents after a sleepy round of good nights.

It was cold in the tent. Sam knew it would probably warm up as their body heat filled the space, but for now, the three of them just slid under their blankets and shivered. They were close to each other, but not close enough, and Sam scooted a little closer to Cat, wrapping her arms around her. “It’s cold,” she whispered.

“It is,” Cat agreed, snuggling closer, “Carly, aren’t you cold?”

“Yeah,” Carly admitted, moving a little closer on Sam’s other side. Sam appreciated the warmth coming from both sides, but her hands that were wrapped around Cat felt like the coldest part of her. She sought to fix that by slipping them inside the bottom of Cat’s shirt, not touching anything more interesting than her stomach and lower back.

But immediately, Cat squealed and squirmed away. “Sam! Your hands are _freezing_!” she cried out.

The silence that fell over the campsite full of intoxicated teens was palpable. Carly broke it by calling out, “Um, that wasn’t sexual, I’m in here with them.” Then, a moment later, “ _Oh my god_ Sam your _feet_ are _freezing_!”

“Forgot to put on socks,” Sam mumbled.

“Well _put them on_ ,” Carly hissed, then called out again, “Um, that wasn’t sexual either!”

“Well, some of us are _trying to be sexual_ , so maybe we can all keep it down!” Jade called out in a snarling tone.

Another pocket of dead silence. Then, a rustling sound, further away, and someone stepped out of the boys’ tent. Cat sat up curiously, and moments later, soft music started playing from a little radio in the nearby poolhouse, just loud enough to drown out any unwanted noise, but not keep anyone up. “Leave it to Andre,” Cat murmured as she tucked herself back in the blankets. “Sam, if you need to warm your hands, they can go under my sweatshirt, but not under my shirt.”

“And _put on your socks_ or you’ll never get warm,” Carly reminded her.

The last thing Sam wanted was to get out from under the covers, and her two bedmates groaned as she sat up, taking half the blankets with her, but then she was pulling on her socks and settling back down between them, and the three of them kept each other warm enough to sleep.

-

The morning brought with it some welcome warmth, even as the sun woke them all up at first, but everyone was too exhausted to get up, and rolled over to get more sleep. Carly was no exception. By around nine in the morning, though, the sun was too bright and the sounds of Beck’s neighborhood were too loud for anyone to really continue sleeping, so they all shuffled out of their tents and bid each other sleepy good mornings.

Sam immediately headed to the poolhouse and began to eat the cold, leftover pizza, and Beck pointed everybody to the kitchenette if they wanted cereal. Jade was just grumbling and scowling at everybody and started a pot of coffee; apparently Beck hadn’t moved fast enough for her. She stood and stared at the coffee machine as it dripped, probably waiting for a full cup to come through, and probably also trying to avoid looking at anyone lest she snap at them. Even Tori seemed to be keeping her distance.

Jade wasn’t the only one waiting for coffee. Carly wasn’t hung over, and it gradually emerged that no one really was aside from some mild headaches, but she did need a cup of coffee to fully start her day. Long gone were the days that Spencer only let her drink decaf; Carly was a full on caffeine addict, though maybe not to the extent that Jade was, and she couldn’t help that her eye was drawn to the coffee machine as she munched cold pizza next to Sam.

Jade and Carly clearly weren’t the only ones who needed coffee to start their day, because the two of them plus Tori and Sam cleared out the first pot that was brewed, leaving Beck with barely half a cup. He looked a little disappointed, but mostly stoic as he brewed more. Everyone wanted some of that second pot; Jade had already finished one cup, and even Andre, Cat, and Robbie, who Carly gathered weren’t regular coffee drinkers, wanted a cup with lots of cream and sugar. It wasn’t until Beck brewed a third pot that it sat for more than two minutes.

Conversation was slow for a while as everyone woke up, but when people finally started actually smiling at each other, it was time to get ready to go home. First, they all helped Beck throw away the empty pizza boxes and Jade put the crockpot in the sink to soak, since what remained of the nacho cheese had crusted. Then, they all began tearing down their tents. It was somehow more difficult to do, mostly because no matter what they tried, they couldn’t seem to fit Dice’s tent back into the sleeve he’d given it to them in. But they did their best and gathered all their blankets and pillows and said their goodbyes to the boys, thanking Beck for the party, and followed Tori and Jade back to Tori’s car.

The atmosphere of the ride home was subdued, but pleasant, with occasional comments and laughter, but it was clear everyone was ready to get home and recover. When Tori dropped them off at the apartment, she and Jade offered Carly their extended goodbyes and wishes for her safe travels. Carly had really enjoyed getting to know all of Cat and Sam’s friends, but especially these two, in spite of Jade’s moments of abrasiveness and Tori’s occasional awkwardness. The other friend that had really caught her interest had been Beck, who she thought she might’ve tried to get a phone number from if not for the fact that she was seeing Amandine. But then, she’d overheard Jade talking about how boring he had been to date, and once she got past how pretty he was and had an actual conversation, she had to admit she could see it.

They dropped off Dice’s tent at his apartment (he was only slightly exasperated that they couldn’t pack it up properly) and then headed back into Sam and Cat’s apartment. The party and sleeping outdoors had clearly drained everybody, and they spent a lazy afternoon on the couch, much like Carly’s first day there.

The afternoon seemed to pass in a blur, as they took showers, ate snack foods and relaxed. When Cat finally found the motivation to make dinner, it was a relatively simple meal of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, and then they ignored some reality TV and talked for a while. Cat frequently went to bed earlier than Sam, at least as far as Carly had observed, but tonight she headed to bed even earlier than usual, bidding them both goodnight and warning Sam not to stay up too late.

And then it was just Carly and her best friend on the couch together.

“Still can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” Sam commented. “Feels like it’s barely been any time at all.”

“Yeah,” Carly agreed, “Not nearly long enough.” It would be almost a full week from when Goomer dropped her off at the apartment until the time Goomer was coming to pick her up the next day. Carly had seen and experienced a lot, had enjoyed the company of many people, and had even had plenty of time with just Sam.

But it wasn’t enough. Carly wasn’t sure it could ever be enough.

“I had a really great time, though,” she told Sam, turning her head from where it was leaning on the back of the couch to look at her.

“Don’t start on those goodbyes yet,” Sam said harshly, voice breaking slightly. “It’s not time yet.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Carly agreed.

“What time is Goomer picking you up?” Sam asked, maybe wanting to quantify exactly how much time they had left.

“Eleven. So I can be sure to get into LAX by eleven-thirty for my flight at one-thirty. Just being extra cautious.”

“You got a layover?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. I’ll land in New York kind of late. And then it’s a long layover, so I got a hotel for the night, then catch my flight to Rome the next afternoon. Then I’ll take the train up to Florence from there.”

“Damn,” Sam sounded overwhelmed. “That’s a hell of a journey.”

“It’s a little easier coming here than going back. The time zone changes tighten up the flight times and everything. But it’s worth it,” Carly shot her a smile.

“Definitely,” Sam agreed, “I’d do it if I were allowed.”

They were both quiet for a moment, Carly lost in thoughts about what it might be like to explore Italy with Sam, how much Sam would _love_ the food, would _love_ the chance to practice her Italian on people. And how Cat, because of course Cat would be there too, would love learning new things about the cuisine and how her jaw would drop when Carly might tell her how old a building was, or when a piece of art was made. She wondered if Cat had ever been to Italy; she knew Cat was Italian, but somehow the question had never come up in the week they’d spent together.

She imagined how Sam would probably scoff at the little cappuccinos but would secretly love them, how Carly would try to show them all the famous art and culture of her city, but Sam would undoubtedly do something crass like laugh at the statue of David’s penis and then impatiently ask what they were having for lunch. Honestly, having Sam in Italy would be a dream, but an impossible one.

Luckily, Carly was fine with occasional trips back to the US, even though she missed Amandine terribly while they were apart, and while time zone discrepancies made even keeping in touch by text more difficult. Still, maybe she’d even manage a longer trip home next time.

“When do you go back to school?” Sam asked.

“In a few weeks. Gives me plenty of time to adjust back to Italy time and maybe earn some money tutoring kids in English.” But even as she said it, it sounded stupid. She didn’t need _that_ long to get over jet lag and she didn’t expect tutoring jobs to be that plentiful at the beginning of a semester. But she hadn’t wanted to overstay her welcome in Sam and Cat’s house, enmeshing in their lives, especially knowing how new things were with them and how much they were both working on themselves.

“Yeah. Guess you have a whole life to get back to,” Sam said wistfully. “And a whole girlfriend.”

“Yeah, _kind of_ looking forward to the greeting Amandine’s going to give me,” Carly grinned, but then sobered as her thoughts were back to her trip. “Maybe I can stay longer next time. If it’s not an imposition.”

“You? An imposition?” Sam scoffed. “Never. Stay as long as you want next time, I know Cat is with me on this one. When do you think it’ll be?”

“Not sure,” Carly replied, “Maybe the summer. If not then, then next Christmas.”

“I hope it’s the summer,” Sam commented.

They were quiet again. Carly hadn’t really been watching the TV, but it absorbed her attention now. _Celebrities Underwater_. She and Sam both didn’t like this show, and she couldn’t even name the celebrity they were currently watching trying to complete the tasks in the water tank, but Carly figured they were both so tired they couldn’t care.

“I hate this show,” mumbled Sam, sounding barely awake.

“Me, too,” Carly agreed, but neither of them reached for the remote.

Carly hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she felt Sam’s head resting against her shoulder. It woke her up, briefly, but then she just leaned her head right back against Sam’s. They’d fallen asleep together on the couch a million times in the years they’d known each other, but it never felt quite so intimate. Carly felt warm, and began to drift back to sleep.

At least until Sam’s arm slipped around her waist and she let out a mumbling sort of moan, which woke Carly up again. But then Sam stirred, and withdrew her arm.

Carly was just awake enough to make sense of it. “You thought I was Cat, didn’t you?” she murmured.

“Yeah,” Sam whispered back.

“At least you didn’t grab my boob,” Carly teased softly.

“Almost did,” Sam admitted. She sat up slowly, reluctantly, “Guess I better go to bed.”

“Good, because my neck is starting to hurt.” But Carly smiled fondly at her. “Good night, Sam.”

“Night, Carls.”

Carly sleepily pulled her pillow and blanket over onto the couch. It was kind of a short couch, not her favorite place to sleep by far.

But when it came to spending time with Sam, there wasn’t a single inconvenience that wasn’t well worth it.

-

It seemed like no time at all passed between when Sam woke up and Carly left. Sam was already in a funk, knowing her best friend was leaving, and it was as if her preoccupation with her sadness made the entire morning slip away, just a short series of events: having coffee and breakfast, Carly taking a shower, Carly checking that her luggage was all packed and ready, and Goomer knocking on the door at eleven o’clock sharp.

And then, it was time to say goodbye.

Sam hated goodbyes. She hated that she’d had to say goodbye to Carly once in her life already, and that it was happening again, in much the same way as the first time: a long hug, neither of them wanting to let go, though not in an elevator this time, at the front door of Sam’s apartment, with Goomer holding Carly’s bags and Cat standing nearby, having already given Carly her own, much shorter, goodbye hug.

There wasn’t anything to say that they weren’t already saying with the way that it was impossible to let go of each other. Goomer and Cat didn’t rush them, just let them hold onto each other, let them tell one another they loved and would miss each other without words, let them display all the misery of the moment with the press of one against the other. All Sam knew was that, although her life would never _not_ have Carly in it, it was fuller and richer having Carly _in person_ in it, that a week of having Carly and Cat a part of her daily life was better than anything she could imagine. That letting go of Carly meant letting Carly leave, and it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Cat clearly knew that, because she merely stood quietly. And maybe Goomer did on some level, but he was also the one taking Carly to the airport, so he was the one who gently prompted, “We should go, in case there’s traffic, so you can get there when you wanted to.”

Knowing LA, Sam thought, there was always going to be traffic. Still, she didn’t let go until she felt Carly reluctantly pulling away. She gave Sam a watery smile, “I’ll be in the air riding over the Atlantic during our regular chat time this weekend, but we _will_ talk soon, got it?”

“Yeah. I know,” Sam managed through her tight throat. “Travel safe.”

“I will,” Carly grinned, “You and I have taken more harrowing flights than this could possibly be.” It made Sam grin, remembering their flight to Japan, in a cargo plane filled with possums, from which they’d had to parachute out. “Take care of yourself,” she told Sam seriously, then glanced at Cat, “And each other.”

“We will,” Cat agreed solemnly. Sam could only nod.

And then Carly was following Goomer to his car. Sam watched them walk away until she couldn’t see them anymore.

When she closed the door, Sam felt only sad and numb. Cat was looking at her sympathetically. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”

But Sam’s stomach felt like she’d swallowed all her sadness and it was churning there in distress. “No,” she mumbled, “I just wanna be alone.” And she brushed past Cat, pausing just long enough to squeeze her hand reassuringly, so Cat wouldn’t think she’d done anything wrong, and then crawled through the safe crawlspace to her art studio.

She didn’t feel like making art, not really. At first she just sat on the little stool in the corner and brooded. She felt like she wanted to cry, but couldn’t, instead she just felt dark and empty. Eventually, she had the motivation to try to express some of her feelings on paper, and created an abstract piece, with lots of swipes of color, mostly black and various shades of red. It was really more about the process than the results, and she didn’t even really like how it turned out, but guessed it felt kind of good to create. But abstract definitely wasn’t her preferred way to work.

Sam had been in there for several hours before Cat appeared at the safe end of the crawlspace. “Sam?”

“Yeah?” Sam called back.

“You should come out so you have time to have some lunch before you go see Lanelle.”

 _Damn_. Sam had nearly forgotten about her appointment with Lanelle. The holidays had messed up their regular therapy schedule; Cat had seen Dr. Russ earlier in the month than usual, and had missed two Wednesdays with Dr. Penny because they fell on holidays, though Cat had also been doing well and had been assured she could call Dr. Penny if she needed to during the weeks they weren’t seeing each other. But Sam’s appointment with Lanelle was right on schedule.

She crawled out of the space, and Cat was there to help her balance as she slid onto her feet. She offered Cat a weak smile.

Cat had made bacon cheeseburgers for lunch. Sam was surprised she hadn’t smelled it from her art studio, but she supposed the crawlspace did a lot to make the little room private, dulling sounds and smells. The food made her feel a little better, because once it was in front of her, she was able to recognize that she was ravenous. She was also so grateful to Cat for feeding her and making sure she got out the door in time for her appointment. Sam gave her a kiss before she left, an expression of her love and gratitude.

When she sat down on the comfortable armchair in Lanelle’s office, she barely took note of her therapist’s outfit (pantsuit and a button-up shirt) and hair (down and wavy). Not even her therapist’s physical attractiveness was of much interest today, with how bummed Sam was feeling overall.

“Last time we talked, you were having some stress about Christmas,” Lanelle commented, “How was the holiday?”

Sam blinked, because it seemed like so long ago that she was scrambling to make enough paintings for holiday gifts, as if it had been a lifetime ago before Carly came to be with her in LA, yet her time with Carly in LA was not nearly a lifetime, not nearly enough time. “Uh, Christmas was really good, actually.” Sam reflected on the memory, on Nona cooking platters and platters of food for them, on Cat giving her her new jacket (which she was wearing today), on Cat’s delight at her painting of Mr. Purple (they were still trying to decide where to hang it in the apartment). The good memory was enough to cheer her for a moment. “I painted something for Cat and she loved it, and the stuff I painted for Nona and my friends went over well, too. Cat got me this jacket, and Nona cooked so much great food.”

“That sounds lovely,” Lanelle smiled, “Though I can’t help but notice you’re looking a little down today. Did something else happen after Christmas?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “It has to do with another present of sorts, from Cat and my best friend Carly. The day after Christmas, Carly showed up at the apartment. A total surprise. It was...it made me so fucking happy.”

“This is your best friend who lives in Italy, right?”

“Yeah. She came home to Seattle to celebrate Christmas with her family and then came down to see me. She and Cat arranged it so I just thought some random cousin of Cat’s was coming to stay, and then, it was Carly.”

“That’s wonderful,” Lanelle smiled, “How did the visit go?”

“It went amazing. Like, Carly wanted to see the sights, so we took her out to explore the city with our friends who have cars. She got to meet all the people who have become important to me and all of Cat’s friends. She and Cat got along _great_. And then for New Year’s Eve, Cat’s friend from high school was having a party so we, you know, did what people do at parties…” she trailed off.

“That could mean quite a few things,” Lanelle said mildly, “You can be honest with me, if you want to.”

“We drank and smoked weed,” Sam admitted, “It was pretty responsible, though. No one got super wasted. And I want to maybe talk about weed more, but later.”

“Okay,” Lanelle nodded, “So you guys partied.”

“Yeah. And camped out in the backyard. And honestly, it was a really good time.”

“So where does the other shoe drop?” asked Lanelle.

Sam sighed. “Carly left today.” Lanelle nodded, like she’d been anticipating this. “And she doesn’t know when she might be able to come visit again. And I can’t go to Europe--long story--” she wondered, briefly, how much Lanelle knew about her criminal record. The fact that she’d been to juvie had come up, but Sam hadn’t mentioned anything beyond that. She wondered if therapists ran background checks. But Lanelle didn’t really react to Sam’s admission that she couldn’t go to Europe, so Sam just pressed on. “So the only way we can spend time together is if she comes to me. And…” she trailed off.

“It’s hard to say goodbye and not know when you might see each other again,” Lanelle offered.

“Yeah,” Sam whispered back. “Having her here with me was...it was like everything I’ve ever wanted. My best friend. And Cat. My two favorite people.”

“She’s really important to you.”

It wasn’t a question, just Lanelle urging her to keep talking. But Sam nodded anyway. “Yeah. She...if it weren’t for her, I don’t know where I’d be right now. She did so much for me. She and Spencer always let me come over when I didn’t want to go home. She’s probably the reason I passed high school and probably kept me out of juvie countless times. I just...it’s not like I owe her so much, because that’s not how it works, there’s no score to even with us. It’s just…”

“She’s your best friend and you love her,” Lanelle offered.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed again, “And now that I know what it’s like to have her here in LA with me, I don’t know how I’m supposed to be happy with just video chats again.”

And the tears that hadn’t materialized when she went to her art studio to be by herself were suddenly forming, which was the _last_ thing she wanted. Crying in general sucked, and it was always worse to do in front of other people. Even Carly had only seen her do it a handful of times, and she was pretty sure Cat had only seen it once. To do it in front of Lanelle felt frustrating and complicated, because of the therapy relationship, and because she was so damn attractive. Sam was pretty sure therapy in general wasn’t impacted much by the fact that she was attracted to Lanelle, but in this particular moment, it was something she had trouble setting aside.

Lanelle calmly picked up the tissue box and placed it closer to Sam, who tugged one out angrily and dabbed at her eyes. She hadn’t even bothered putting on any makeup today, which she usually made sure to do if she was definitely leaving the house, but maybe it was a good thing in this case.

“Was saying goodbye so painful that you wish she hadn’t come at all?” Lanelle asked.

“No! No, I’m really happy she came to see me. It was great, it was _perfect_. I’m so glad she and Cat made it happen. It’s just...I don’t know how I’m going to be okay without her again.”

Another wave of tears filled her eyes, and she gritted her teeth and unwadded the tissue she’d balled up in her hand one more time to wipe them away. Lanelle just watched her sympathetically, maybe giving her a moment, but for Sam, it made it worse, having her crying being acknowledged that way.

Needing to move on from it, Sam spoke again. “Of course I’ll be fine with the video chats,” she stated, mostly to convince herself. “When they’re the only option, they’re the best option.”

“That’s a helpful way to frame it,” Lanelle commented. “But I think your sadness makes a lot of sense, and it’s worth letting yourself feel that while you keep things in perspective.”

“Oh, I’ve been feeling it all day,” Sam chuckled darkly, “I just don’t always need to _cry_ about stuff that makes me sad.”

Lanelle tilted her head to the side. “What’s wrong with crying?”

“Everything. I hate it,” Sam said savagely.

“It may not always be pleasant, but it’s natural,” Lanelle said reassuringly, “My office is a safe place to do this if you need to. Think of it as a free space. Maybe crying doesn’t have to ‘count’ if it happens here.”

Sam narrowed her eyes. She would still know it was happening, know Lanelle had noticed, would still feel stuffy and headachy when it was over. Even if they pretended it didn’t “count,” Sam would still know it had happened. But maybe she could play along. “Okay,” she said slowly, “But only if you don’t say anything when it happens and pretend it’s not happening.”

Lanelle’s lip twitched, “Okay. I can do that.” She paused. “Even if you need a tissue?” she suggested mildly.

Sam huffed out a sigh, but one side of her mouth pulled into a wry grin. “Okay. But that’s all you’re allowed to do.”

“Got it.”

Sam was relieved to realize she wasn’t crying anymore.

-

Cat was prepared for Sam to be sad when Carly left, but she hadn’t quite anticipated the magnitude of it. Carly had lived far away from Sam for so long, Cat thought it might be kind of easy to adjust to the way things had been. So she’d given Sam her space on that first day. Sam seemed to be feeling a little better when she came back from her appointment with Lanelle, and dinner, too, seemed to cheer her up a little, but in the evening, all Sam wanted to do was watch TV. Which was fine, they did that pretty often anyway, but the major difference was that it didn’t lead to much affection or making out. Sam allowed Cat to lean against her shoulder, but it was a bit like snuggling a statue. Cat tried not to let it hurt her feelings, because the way Sam managed to smile at her when they looked at each other reassured her that Sam’s mood didn’t have anything to do with her. Sam was just sad. Cat knew that Sam had worked around Cat’s own bouts of pretty severe sadness not that long ago, and knew she would do whatever she could to help Sam through her own.

The evening ended with a few chaste but lingering kisses and assurances that they loved each other. By the time Cat finished in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed, Sam was already in her own bed, curled up under her blankets with her pillow over her head, lightly snoring. So Cat just slid into her own pink bed, giving Sam her space.

The next day was a little better. Sam was slightly more like herself during the morning and afternoon, and displayed almost the appropriate amount of excitement over food as she usually did, but as the evening wore on, her mood dropped again. Cat figured it out before too long: this was normally a night Sam would be chatting with Carly, but Carly was on an airplane, probably trying to sleep, and there would be no Carly call. She managed to make Sam smile by making chicken for dinner, and on the couch that night, Sam was slightly more responsive to Cat’s cuddles. They even kissed for a while, just enough for things to start getting slightly exciting before Sam would pull away with a sigh and just hold Cat, close and tight. Cat wasn’t pushing for anything or really seeking anything except to offer what might make Sam feel better.

She was beginning to realize how hard it was to take care of a partner who was sad. And Sam was pretty easy to take care of even when she _was_ sad. She could recognize the sorts of efforts Sam had put forth helping Cat so recently, and was all the more grateful for her girlfriend, even when it gnawed at her that she couldn’t make Sam’s sadness go away.

They fell asleep together that night, Cat spooning herself as close to Sam as possible, at least until Sam unconsciously forced her over to her own bed by sprawling in her sleep. As much as it broke her heart to leave Sam alone in her bed, Cat did it, knowing she’d be no help to Sam if she didn’t sleep.

Saturday morning, Sam’s mood started at a bit of a low as she got out of bed, but as she was eating her breakfast, she got a text on her phone, and smiled slightly. “Carly made it home,” she reported. “She’s finally back at her apartment.”

“Wow, that took awhile, huh?” Cat commented.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “Now she just has to adjust back to Italy time.”

The good news helped Sam’s mood a bit. Cat wondered if Sam had been worried about Carly traveling across the world by herself; Cat knew that Carly had traveled back to Seattle with her dad, and supposed if it had crossed her mind, she might’ve worried a bit about Carly traveling so far alone for the first time, too.

In the afternoon, Sam fielded another text as they sat on the couch together, but this one made her frown. “Ugh,” she muttered, “That’s right. I forgot I agreed to go to San Diego with Dice tomorrow.”

Cat didn’t remember hearing about this before. But things had been a little crazy for a few weeks, with holidays and a houseguest, so maybe it had just gotten lost in the shuffle. “What’s happening in San Diego?”

“Some kind of big sale I agreed to help him with. Goomer’s going to drive us, we’d pretty much be gone all day.” She sighed, “I just don’t really know if I should go,” she mumbled.

“He can probably handle it without you,” Cat assured her.

“Probably,” Sam agreed listlessly, “I dunno, maybe it would be good to get out of the house, though. To just do something a little different.” She looked at Cat, blue eyes soft, almost pleading. “I just don’t really want to be away from you,” she admitted.

Despite the circumstances, the comment made Cat feel like she might float away for a moment. “I don’t really want to be away from you, either,” she confessed, realizing that if Sam went away for the day, it would be the longest they’d been apart since Cat was in Arizona. And certainly the longest they’d been apart since they started dating. But maybe that wasn’t the best thing, to be living in each other’s pockets (a phrase her mom had used to describe Cat’s closeness with Jade and later with Robbie...and now Cat wondered just _how_ perceptive her mom had been) all the time. Cat knew enough about mental health to know that sometimes the thing you _didn’t_ want to do meant you should do it. “But if you think it will do you good to just go out and do something, you should do it.”

Sam looked reluctant. “What about you?” she asked.

“Me? I’ll be fine,” Cat assured her. “It’s Funday. Jade was going to come over, anyway. So I won’t have to be alone.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah. Maybe I should keep my promise to Dice. Plus it wouldn’t hurt to earn my cut of the sale.”

Cat scooted closer and pressed a kiss to Sam’s lips. “Go. I’d feel better about Dice and Goomer if you were with them, anyway.”

Sam laughed lightly, “That’s a good point,” she agreed, and her hand lifted to settle on Cat’s jaw as she returned the kiss, this one lingering, filling Cat’s chest with heat.

The kisses continued between them, eager kisses, igniting a passion that Cat hadn’t really felt since before Christmas. Carly’s presence had meant they’d been more careful about intimacy while she was in the apartment, not to mention the fact that their days had been so packed that they were quite tired at the end of them, or Sam’s tendency to stay up and chat with her best friend after Cat went to bed. They just hadn’t had a lot of alone time, and though Cat had been willing to wait as long as Sam needed, now that it seemed Sam was offering some kind of sensual contact, it was hard not to get excited. Luckily, Sam seemed responsive enough, whimpering softly against Cat’s lips, hand gripping her hip securely as she turned and pressed closer on the couch.

Nothing beyond kissing (but _really good_ kissing) happened on the couch that afternoon, and Cat’s suggestion of Tubba Chicken for dinner seemed to please Sam. She was obviously still having her moments when she was just in her head with her melancholy, but Cat thought she was slowly starting to feel better. She thought that maybe, with her persistent attention and outpouring of love, that she might be able to get Sam’s despondence to disappear completely. Sam was easier to cheer up in general. Usually it just took a good meal to turn her mood around. Just because this particular sadness lingered, Cat wasn’t deterred.

And that night in Sam’s bed, they kissed more, enough that Cat could feel the energy between them, the desire and need that Sam felt driving her. Sam’s hand eventually tucked itself under Cat’s pajama top, slipping up her torso to palm her breast, and Sam moaned softly against her mouth as Cat whined in need, squirming to push closer. It wasn’t as intense as it usually was when they did this, and Cat returned the touch, over Sam’s t-shirt, with some caution, noting the way it made her breath catch, the way Sam squirmed slightly.

When Sam pulled away long moments later, breathing deeply, Cat could feel her heart hammering beneath her palm. “What do you need?” Cat asked her, wondering if they should slow down, if this was too much for Sam to handle when she was still a little bit turbulent, emotionally.

Sam’s eyes met hers, so dark they looked almost purple in the dim, ambient light of their bedroom. “I just want to feel close to you,” she murmured.

Cat was happy to give her that. It was what she wanted, too. An opportunity to offer Sam some healing with her affection. An opportunity to give her a meaningful goodbye, even if she was just leaving for the day tomorrow. So Cat pushed closer, closing the space between them on the bed, their chests pressing together as they kissed, her hand slipping under Sam’s t-shirt to trace up her spine, hand stationary between her shoulder blades, holding Sam close.

But closer in this way meant they couldn’t touch each other like they had been. Maybe that was an issue for Sam, too, because she tipped backwards, giving Cat time to slide her hand out of the back of her top, and then rolled onto her back, hand still on Cat’s lower back to coax her along with her. Cat settled partly on top of her, but it felt awkward, so she moved to straddle one of Sam’s legs.

She heard Sam’s gasp of air at the move, but she made no move to stop Cat, and with the bit of leverage her position provided her, it was easier now to slip one hand into Sam’s shirt, gently covering her breast with her hand as they kept kissing. They’d been keeping a certain amount of distance when it came to their lower bodies, wanting to maintain their boundaries, but Sam wanted her closer, and Cat wanted to give that to her as much as possible.

And it was certainly the closest she’d ever felt to Sam, with the way their hips aligned, her leg settling between Sam’s, Cat’s body arranged right on top of Sam’s. They were keeping their lower bodies still, at least relatively, though as Cat’s fingers swirled over one of Sam’s nipples, she could feel the way it made her whole body squirm. And they kept kissing, and Cat kept touching Sam, and Sam kept moving against her, reactionary movements punctuated with whimpers and groans, and Cat let her weight settle a little more against her, to be closer, like Sam wanted.

She didn’t know how long it went on before she felt Sam’s hand on her collarbone, and Cat lifted her head, taking in the bright pink flush on Sam’s cheek, the fever-bright gleam of her eyes, the way her blonde mane fanned out against her pillow, framing her face.

“Wait,” Sam breathed, eyes darting all over Cat’s face. “If we keep this up, I might…” she trailed off.

“Okay,” Cat murmured, dipping her head back down to kiss Sam again, feeling excitement course down her spine light a jolt of electricity, eager at the idea of how much Sam was enjoying this. She certainly didn’t want to stop if Sam was experiencing pleasure, and Sam hadn’t asked her to. So Cat kept her body where it was, flush against Sam’s, hand beneath her shirt, lips against Sam’s.

But minutes later, Sam’s hand was back on her shoulder. “Cat,” she breathed, “I’m serious. I’m gonna come if we keep this up.”

“That’s okay,” Cat whispered back, “Whatever you need, Sam, I want.”

Sam’s frown shifted briefly to a conflicted expression before her face smoothed out, her eyes searched Cat’s, and she murmured, “Okay. If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” Cat assured her, then, before Sam could ask again, she dipped back down to connect their lips, feeling Sam’s moan reverberate against her mouth. She felt Sam’s hands shift from where they’d settled on her back, one moving up to press against her shoulder blade, the other gripping Cat’s hip, and then she felt movement beneath her. Deliberate movement, not the reactionary squirms and presses of Sam’s hips, but a deliberate grind against Cat’s thigh. Cat shifted slightly, pressing her thigh a little more firmly between Sam’s legs, hearing the resulting whine from her lips, the whispered cursed, the way her fingers tightened on Cat’s hip as she pushed up against her harder, chased her lips more wantonly.

Cat didn’t move her own body really, except for the hand still on Sam’s breast, the lips and tongue still moving against Sam’s. She wasn’t sure what would be helpful in this position, so she kept her hips and leg still, letting Sam do what she needed to do, excitement building in her as Sam’s movements grew more frantic, as the sounds she made grew more plentiful. Cat felt hot all over as everything built up between them until abruptly Sam’s head tipped back and her back bowed, and she released a stuttering cry, and Cat felt the way Sam’s hands held her firmly in place, the way her body jolted up against hers repeatedly, the way she released a series of soft groans as Cat shifted to kissing her neck, feeling the power of Sam’s orgasm flow through her like liquid sunlight, until Sam’s body softened and stilled save for a delicious shiver and her chest expanding with deep, rapid breaths.

Cat lifted her head to get a look at Sam’s face. She was flushed, her face as slack as the rest of her body, and she offered Cat a wordless, lazy grin. Cat brushed a wild blonde curl out of her face. “You okay?” she asked softly.

Sam chuckled softly, “God, yes. I’m _very_ okay. That was…” she trailed off and coaxed Cat gently closer to kiss her slowly, softly.

Cat hadn’t had an orgasm herself, but the satisfaction she felt was close to the same feeling. Her heart felt full, like her blood sang with victory, and she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. She wanted to make Sam feel good _and she had_ , and it was utterly intoxicating, a delightful sense of being fulfilled at the fact that she could be there for Sam, could offer her this kind of reprieve from her sadness.

But then Sam pulled back from their kisses, brow furrowing once again, “You didn’t...did you want to try, or…?”

Cat shook her head, honestly completely content in the moment, “No,” she murmured, pressing another kiss to Sam’s nose, “I just wanted that for you.”

Sam’s mouth stretched into another lazy grin and they shifted, Cat resting her head on Sam’s shoulder, holding each other tightly. Within minutes, Sam was asleep.

Cat lay in the darkness, grinning at the lingering joy she felt at the encounter as she fell asleep on Sam’s shoulder.

-

Sam woke up several hours later wrapped around Cat, and she lay for a long moment debating whether she actually needed to go get a snack. Some nights she slept through and didn’t eat anything, but it was hard to ignore the pull of leftovers in the refrigerator when she woke up enough to think about them.

But she also wanted to be close to Cat. What they’d shared the night before had been...intimate, and special, and all Sam wanted to do was burrow closer to Cat, to let the reassurance of her, the physical presence of her, comfort Sam. In spite of the fact that the warmth of Cat and the smell of her hair was making Sam smile as she held her, there was still an emptiness in her chest, an ache in her stomach, remnants of her sadness.

And the more she thought about it, the more it started to resemble hunger. So she finally reluctantly unlooped her arms from around Cat and moved quietly up front to the kitchen. It was still disappointing to realize that Carly wasn’t sleeping on the couch, wasn’t about to wake up just enough to squint at her over the back of the sofa and mumble something about how Sam never changed.

But leftover chicken was a good balm for this type of longing, and Sam smiled contently as she carried the container back to the bedroom.

Cat was climbing into her own bed as Sam came back in the room. “Hey,” Sam murmured, “Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay,” Cat said quietly, “You usually push me out of the bed in your sleep by now.”

Sam grimaced, “Wish I didn’t,” she replied, “I love having you in bed with me.”

“I know,” Cat sat up, an invitation for Sam to come over and give her a kiss. “But now you’re going to be in bed with chicken, so I think you’re okay.”

“Chicken’s pretty great, but it’s not you,” Sam smiled at her, then settled back into her bed with her leftover chicken. At least she’d remembered to grab a napkin with it. Keeping her sheets clean meant Cat was more likely to get into her bed with her.

Sam woke up in the morning curled around her empty tupperware rather than around Cat. Cat was already up, the room was empty, and though it wasn’t much different than any other morning, it disappointed Sam. She almost wished Cat had tried to wake her up, so they might start the morning with Cat getting pinned beneath her. It would beat waking up alone.

Sam shuffled out of the bedroom, carrying last night’s leftover container, and found Cat in the kitchen, humming as she stirred something on the stove.

She beamed at Sam, “Good morning,” she chirped.

Sam really only felt capable of grunting in reply. Her brain was already churning. No Carly, she was taking that trip to San Diego today, and she felt such a longing to be close to Cat, who was busy cooking. Nothing felt right.

Cat seemed to notice her expression. “Coffee is ready,” she gestured behind her, “And oatmeal with apples and cinnamon is almost ready!”

“Great,” mumbled Sam.

“I thought you could probably use a hearty breakfast for your trip today.”

It was thoughtful, and after she poured her coffee and sat at the kitchen island, she offered Cat a little smile, “Thanks.”

Cat nodded happily, but she seemed to pick up on Sam’s mood, because she wasn’t humming anymore. She poured them both some orange juice and then began dishing out breakfast, settling next to Sam to eat. Still, she waited for Sam to drink some coffee and get started on her oatmeal before she asked, “Are you okay?”

Sam shrugged, spooning some oatmeal into her mouth. It was good, like most things Cat made, and she always put in the perfect amount of brown sugar, but today it was just hard to be excited about something like oatmeal. “Just...you know. Kinda bummed. Still missing Carly, since we haven’t had a chance to chat yet. And not thrilled to be leaving you all day.”

She could see Cat nodding next to her. “I’m gonna miss you today, too,” Cat said quietly. They ate in silence for a bit, Sam brooding, wondering when she would finally feel okay again, wondering if she was just being melodramatic about it all.

Still, she was feeling better every day. She reflected that the last time that Carly left, Sam had left, too, and hadn’t looked back. But this time, she was stuck where she was, with the memories of what daily life with Carly had been like, how easily she’d seemed to integrate into their apartment, with their friends, with Cat. That was part of why going to San Diego today was appealing, the change in scenery, but it was also making Sam consider that maybe she hadn’t even addressed how much it had hurt the first time Carly left. Maybe in leaving she had run away from all of it. Maybe she needed to remember to bring this up with Lanelle next time.

But then Cat was asking, “Was last night...okay?”

Sam blinked and let her spoon rest in her oatmeal, turning toward Cat on her barstool. “Last night was _great_ ,” she assured Cat, reaching for her hand that was resting on the island between them.

Cat pushed out a sigh, “It _was_ really great. I guess I just thought…”

In the silence, Sam wondered if she’d done something wrong. Should she have insisted on reciprocation for Cat? Or maybe they’d moved too fast, maybe Sam shouldn’t have given in, even when Cat had assured her that she wanted to. It was so confusing, trying to pace themselves, sometimes. “Thought what?” she prompted hesitantly.

“I thought it made you feel better.”

Sam blinked. “It did?” she offered, confused. “It helped a lot, feeling so close to you.”

Cat offered a weak smile, “I guess I thought it might help you be less sad today.”

Sam reflected on that for a moment. “I am less sad,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m getting less sad every day. It’s just...even though I know the San Diego trip is a good thing, it’s making me sad, too. Because we’re gonna be gone, like, _all day_ , coming home late and everything. So it’s just...layered, I guess.” She slid off her barstool and turned Cat’s stool so that she was facing her. “But what you did for me last night...I love you for it. I mean, I love you anyway, but...you know what I mean.”

Cat grinned softly, and tipped her head to invite a soft, chaste kiss. “Okay,” she replied, “Good. Because I love you, too.”

Sam sat back down to finish her breakfast, but she tried to eat it with her left hand, because her right hand didn’t want to let go of Cat’s.

-

Sam left for her trip in the early afternoon. Cat had several hours to herself, which she spent working in her sewing nook. She hadn’t had a lot of time to work on outfits lately, which was okay, since they’d made a lot of sales during the Christmas season, but she did want to get more items listed before she started school in about a month.

Later in the afternoon, Jade came over. Tori, apparently, was busy until late that night; her program at school had the option for her to earn credit by doing community theater work, so she’d taken a role for a play that was going up over winter break, and she had a long tech rehearsal today.

But it was nice, having some time with just Jade. Though it was clear they were both missing their girlfriends, Cat always appreciated when she had a chance to hang out with her oldest friend, and she knew Jade did, too.

“So, I brought this movie,” Jade held up a DVD case with _Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice_ on the cover. “I have to watch certain movies over the break for one of my classes, and this is one of them. I don’t know if you’d want to watch it with me. It’s from the late 60s and I think there might be an orgy scene?”

“I’ll watch it with you,” Cat offered, not really sure if Jade was serious about the orgy scene or if she was just being...Jade. Either way, she was used to watching weird old movies with her. “What classes are you taking?”

In spite of agreeing to watch the movie, they spent a while chatting first, about things they’d hadn’t had a chance to catch up on with all the events of the last few weeks. Jade told Cat about her classes and wanted to know what she and Robbie were taking together at community college, which Cat was excited to discuss. They talked about Christmas itself, how Nona had cooked all day and it had absolutely thrilled Sam, how Gio had called, how Sam had told Cat about telling her twin sister about the two of them; Jade hadn’t really heard much about Melanie yet and was fascinated by everything Cat could tell her about Sam’s identical twin. Jade told Cat about how they celebrated Christmas at the Vegas’, similar to Thanksgiving, except her brother came along, too. Jade explained that both her mom and her brother were much more tolerable in the presence of Tori’s family, even if Tori disagreed and insisted her family was embarrassing. “At least we can both agree on Trina and Grandma Jean,” Jade summed things up.

By then, Cat was starting to think about dinner, and they ordered pizza, but to save themselves the delivery fee, they decided they’d go pick it up. While they waited for it to be ready, Jade asked about what Sam was up to that day. “Oh, she went with Dice to San Diego,” Cat explained. “Some kind of big sale, she wasn’t specific about what. But she won’t be back until late.”

Jade nodded absently, “Carly left a couple of days ago, huh?”

“Yeah,” Cat nodded soberly, “Sam’s still pretty sad about it.”

“I bet,” Jade said sympathetically. “So’s Tori,” she joked.

Cat laughed, “She _does_ seem to really like Carly, huh?”

“I’ve asked her, but she says she’s not into her that way,” Jade shrugged. “She just admires her. Still, she was acting like they’d never met before, and I know they have.”

“I remember that _iCarly_ episode,” Cat thought back to it, to that whole crazy experience at Kenan Thompson’s house, “And that party. That was...pretty wild.”

“It was,” Jade agreed, “Pretty crazy that you and Sam, like, _almost_ met back then, but didn’t.”

“I know, right?” Cat exclaimed, “Almost as crazy as the fact that Tori and Carly were both dating the same guy and now they’re dating girls.”

“I still can’t believe Tori dated _any_ guys,” Jade mused, “Now that I know her, I don’t know _how_ she didn’t know she was the gayest person alive until we were a thing.”

Cat giggled. “I guess not everybody figures themselves out when they’re younger.”

“Yeah, I guess I was pretty lucky that way,” Jade said thoughtfully, “Thank god for _Bite Me University_ and Lana Blackwood, right?”

“I hear that,” Cat agreed, though she knew Jade had begun considering her sexuality even before that show was on. “I’m…still trying to figure out exactly where I fall on things, but...at least realizing I liked girls in middle school was helpful.” The confession wasn’t entirely new; Cat had expressed when they were younger that she was “curious” around the time Jade had declared herself to be bisexual, but it made Jade smile fondly at her as they reminisced.

By the time they’d picked up and eaten their pizza, Jade suggested they should actually watch the movie so they could finish it before Tori finished up with her tech rehearsal. Cat readily agreed, and they sat on the couch together to watch the old film.

The movie started out with a lot of nude women, which made Cat sit up and pay attention, but then some parts of the movie made Cat want to laugh, because everyone had weird, hairy 60s bodies and the appropriate fashion, and there was something amusingly ridiculous about the group therapy scenes that one of titular couples was experiencing. The movie devolved into a bit of relational chaos; one couple, Bob and Carol, kept having affairs, but agreed it was okay as long as it was just physical, and the other couple, Ted and Alice, kept judging them for it. Until Ted had an affair of his own. In a jealous rage, Alice demanded a foursome, and the couples all got in bed together. Cat was transfixed, watching as they swapped partners, wondering if the sparks between the two women were going to lead to anything. But nothing appeared to really happen beyond kissing, and the movie ended without really revealing any aftermath or fallout of the attempted foursome.

“Well, _that_ was a trip,” Jade commented as she ejected the disc.

“It was kinda funny, right?” Cat asked, wondering if it was supposed to be comedic.

“It was,” Jade agreed. “In that other-people’s-problems kind of way.” She carefully placed the disc back into its case and sat back on the couch next to Cat.

“Would you ever do something like that?” Cat asked.

“What, have a foursome?” Jade smirked, lifting one shoulder in a coy shrug, “I don’t know, maybe with the right people.”

Cat couldn’t really think of anyone she wanted to have sex with other than Sam. But also, that hadn’t been what she was asking about. “I didn’t mean the foursome, I meant how Bob and Carol had an open marriage.”

“Oh,” Jade replied, and considered the question. “I think I could probably handle it. I used to get pretty jealous with Beck, but with Tori, I don’t get jealous as much. And I think I’m even deeper in love with her, so it’s not that I care less or anything like that. What about you?”

Cat had already been considering the question as Jade talked about it. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want anybody else but Sam, but...I think I understand it. Love doesn’t have to just belong to two people. I think the idea that love can grow between even more people is really nice.”

“That’s true, I didn’t think about it that way,” Jade remarked, “I was mostly thinking about the sex part of it.” Jade nodded, seemingly to herself. “Yeah, I think I could do open. Tori, though, I dunno. She’s too possessive of my boobs to want to share them.”

Cat allowed her eyes to drift down to Jade’s chest, “They _are_ really nice boobs.”

Jade smirked, “Careful, I don’t want Tori to come after you.”

“I’m not afraid of Tori,” Cat chuckled, “Besides, I liked you before you even had those boobs.” Cat hadn’t entirely meant to disclose it, but it wasn’t like times before, on her old medication, when things would just come out of her mouth before she could even catch herself. This time, the admission happened because it felt natural in the moment, even though it wasn’t anything Cat had ever intended for Jade to know.

Jade was scrutinizing her. “You...liked me? Like, _liked_ me?”

“Yeah,” Cat admitted, “Like in junior high.”

Jade nodded slowly, “You know, I kinda thought you might, but…” she trailed off.

“It’s okay,” Cat assured her, “It wasn’t serious. And then you started dating Beck and I got over it.”

“Huh,” Jade reflected, “I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah, you _could’ve_ had this,” Cat teased, standing up and twirling and gesturing to herself exaggeratedly.

“Whooooa,” Jade laughed, “Okay. I don’t think I could’ve handled _that_.”

“Sam handles me just fine,” Cat sat back down primly. “She handled me _really_ well last night,” she boasted slightly.

“Sam is a wilder woman than I am,” Jade admitted, “So I have no doubt she can handle you _just fine_.”

Cat considered discussing exactly what had happened last night, but hesitated, still not sure how to talk about it. Aside from occasionally recommending _Bite Me University_ fanfiction to each other, they’d never really talked about sex. But then, Jade pulled her PearPhone out of her pocket.

“It’s Tori,” she said absently, brow furrowing as she read. Then she sighed, “Sounds like the tech rehearsal is going to go even later than she thought. She’s not even sure she’ll be done by midnight.”

“Oh, no,” Cat said sympathetically. “What are you doing tonight, then?”

“Not sure,” Jade said evenly, “My mom is out of town and I was going to stay over at Tori’s, but I don’t really want to go over there early enough to be let in by her parents with nothing to do. And I’m pretty sure she’s just going to crash when she _does_ get home.”

“You can stay here if you want,” Cat suggested. “Like, you can sleep on the couch so you don’t have to drive anywhere super late.”

Jade smiled at the suggestion. “You know, that actually sounds great. Thanks, Cat.” She stood up, “I’m gonna go get my overnight bag out of my car, be right back.”

Cat had heard from Sam a couple of times during the day, mostly just assurances that they’d made it to San Diego and that she and Dice were doing well, but she figured she should let Sam know what was happening.

**Jade is staying over tonight**

It was less than a minute before Sam responded.

**Cool**

**Um, I also just realized I forgot my keys**

**And I don’t think we’re gonna be home til at least eleven**

**Maybe midnight**

Cat frowned. Getting Sam out of the house had been a little difficult, she had still been a bit mopey. She could remember Sam grabbing the lunch that Cat had packed her, so she’d have something to eat on the drive, remembered seeing Sam slip her wallet and phone into her pocket, but...Cat glanced at the table next to the front door, where Sam usually kept her keys, and yep, there they were.

**Oh no!**

**I can leave the back door unlocked for you**

Before Cat had been properly medicated, she and Sam had accidentally left their doors unlocked pretty frequently, to the point that a neighbor’s dog routinely broke into their apartment at night. But nothing else nefarious happened; Venice, especially around their apartment complex, was pretty safe. Besides, it wouldn’t be left unlocked that long in the scheme of things.

**Yeah okay**

**I’ll see you...tomorrow, I guess**

**Okay**

**I love you**

**Love you**

By then, Jade had come back in through the front door with her bag. “I texted Tori and she’s jealous you get to spend the night with me instead of her,” she reported snarkily, “But she also admitted we’d probably literally just sleep if I did go over there, so,” Jade shrugged and dropped her bag next to the couch.

“Want to get into our pajamas?” Cat suggested. It was only a little late, but Cat figured it’d be more comfortable.

“Sure,” Jade agreed, and they split off, Jade heading into the guest bathroom with her bag, Cat heading into the bedroom.

As Cat brushed her teeth and washed her face, she found herself thinking about Sam, about the night before, about how unfair it was that Sam wasn’t coming back until late that night. She thought about what she’d confessed to Jade, that she considered telling Jade more, and wondered whether she should. After she put on her pajamas, she sat on her bed, staring at Sam’s, remembering the night before. She was waiting for Jade to be finished in the guest bathroom, but she guessed she’d gotten lost in her own thoughts, because minutes later, there was a light knock on the ajar bedroom door.

“Cat? You in here?”

“Yeah. You can come in.”

Jade came in, face looking so much softer without the emphasis makeup gave her features, wearing sleeping shorts and a long-sleeved shirt. She glanced around the room, taking in again the chaos of Sam’s side contrasted with the order of Cat’s, then she turned to Cat. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Cat replied. Jade, maybe sensing Cat’s gravitas, came and sat next to her on her bed, watching her idly. Finally, Cat said, “I’ve been thinking about...you know. Having sex.”

“You’re...not talking about with me, are you?” Jade asked.

“No, Jade, with Sam! Focus,” Cat scolded, though she was grinning.

“Well, _I_ don’t know, you’re the one who was talking about open relationships and my boobs earlier,” Jade retorted defensively. Then she subsided. “Wait, you’re not having sex with Sam?”

“No...not really. But I want to! I do! I just...don’t really know what to expect...for my first time.”

“Well,” Jade said slowly, settling and scooting back on Cat’s mattress, leaning against the wall. “Do you masturbate?” she asked with an air of forced casualness, clearly attempting to push past the awkwardness of the topic.

“Yes,” Cat replied simply.

“Okay,” Jade seemed satisfied with the answer, “So do you watch porn?”

Cat’s mouth dropped open and she gasped, scandalized at the assumption, “Gross, Jade! Everybody knows a lady does it up here,” she pointed to her head.

Jade released a helpless laugh, almost a guffaw, “Okay,” she drawled, “Noted. And I thought everybody knew to plug in their headphones, but…” she shrugged, then glanced at Cat conspiratorially, “So, Sam’s not a lady?”

“Are you kidding?” Cat grinned, “She’d probably punch someone if they called her that.”

“That’s fair.” The levity seemed to make them both more comfortable, and Cat settled so she was leaning against the wall next to Jade. “Okay, so...while you’re, um, ‘doing it up here,’” she pointed to her head, “What are you thinking about?” Cat shifted uncomfortably, because this seemed personal, and she’d never even told Sam the sorts of things she thought about in private moments. Jade seemed to sense her hesitation, because she followed up quickly with, “I don’t need specifics, I’m just wondering if you have some idea of what it is you want to _do_ in bed. That’s why I asked about porn, to know if you had like...a visual, or some guidance, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Cat confirmed, “I have...ideas.” She thought about when she’d asked Carly about cunnilingus and felt heat rise on her cheeks. “Like, I think I know how some of this stuff works, I just...don’t really know...” she trailed off.

“Okay,” Jade sounded encouraging, “Well, what _have_ you two done together?”

“Mostly like,” Cat gestured around her chest area, “Above the waist stuff. Under the shirt. Under the bra. And, um...last night…” she began.

“Yeah?” Jade coaxed when she got quiet, gathering her thoughts.

“I guess...Sam...got off?” It was hard to get the words out, but she managed, and then she realized how it sounded. “I don’t guess, I mean, I _know_ she did. But it was...it wasn’t really anything I was doing, just, my thigh was between her legs and I was kissing her and…” She had to stop talking because of how much her face burned.

Jade chuckled softly, “Sounds like fun. Was that the first time either of you got off together?”

“Yeah,” Cat said, “I don’t really know what it means for me.” She glanced at Jade, wondering if she should ask what she’d been considering. “What was it like for you and Tori, when you started having sex?”

Jade scrutinized her, searching her face, “You sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” Cat affirmed. She was _definitely_ curious. “As much as you can tell me.”

Jade nodded. “Well, you know, it all kind of happened gradually, in steps. For a while we were sort of where you guys are, just above the waist sort of stuff, before we were officially girlfriends. And then things sort of...kept escalating.”

“How?” Cat wanted to know.

“We didn’t have a lot of privacy, so we’d have to sneak off to various places to get some time together. We’d park on the Mulholland overlook, and a lot happened in my backseat, but Tori was also always worried about how far we could actually go in such a public location. Another time, we parked near the top of a mostly-empty parking garage and Tori, like, touched me through my clothes.”

“Wow,” Cat was raptly attentive, “We’ve never done anything like that.”

“But you don’t really have to, do you? You have all the privacy you could want in your apartment. It was...sort of exciting, but also not ideal, to do what we did parked in the backseat of a car. We’d really only get privacy if my mom was out of town, and sometimes when I’d stay over at Tori’s. But her parents have this rule, not to do anything we wouldn’t want someone walking in on, so we’d have to be careful there, too. We’re still careful there. It’s easier now that Trina moved out, but still.” Jade’s expression was wistful, and she smiled softly as she recalled some of her early sexual exploration with Tori. “One of the first times we got off together was a lot like what you describe with Sam, for Tori. And then we did a lot together without any clothes actually coming off. We had a lot of orgasms together before we were ever completely naked in front of each other.”

“But what was your first time?” Cat wanted to know.

Jade hesitated. “I guess it depends on which one of us you ask,” she replied.

Cat frowned, “What?”

“Well, I mean...a lot of what we did with our clothes fully on _felt_ like sex. I think what _really_ felt like the first time to me was the first time Tori _actually_ touched me, even though I was still wearing clothes. But with Tori? You know, she hadn’t been with anyone before, and for her, she said she can’t really pinpoint when she feels like she lost her virginity. I guess because there were a lot of little stages to it.”

Cat frowned at that. She didn’t like the idea of not being sure when your first time was. She _needed_ to have that memory be clear, and solid, and _certain_. But she also recognized that she and Sam had already begun tiptoeing up to that line, with what happened last night, and the thrill of Sam’s pleasure, the sounds she made, the way she felt...Cat knew she wanted more of that. She wanted to feel, again and again, how good it felt for Sam to get off. But she also _needed_ them to pace themselves, and she didn’t know how to balance her impulses.

“Even with Beck,” Jade was saying, “There was definitely a similar sort of...building up to sex. At least with a guy there’s a pretty clear definition of what ‘going all the way’ is supposed to mean, but like with Tori, we were giving each other orgasms before we ever had, well, _intercourse_.” Jade shook her head. “I can’t really call that just ‘sex’ because I know now that sex can mean so many more things than just that.”

Something occurred to Cat. “Was Beck super hairy like the guys in that movie?”

Jade choked out a surprised little laugh, “Oh, god no. Thank god. There were a lot of frustrating things about Beck, but his body wasn’t one of them.”

“What about Tori’s body?” This time the question was a joke, though Cat did her best to keep a straight face.

“ _Definitely_ not,” Jade laughed openly.

But Cat had been considering what Jade had said about sex, and what counted, and shifted the subject back to more serious matters. “Is what Sam and I did considered sex?” Cat wanted to know.

Jade shrugged, “That’s really for the two of you to decide. Tori and I would probably say yes now, but I know the first time something like that happened with Tori, I felt like it hadn’t involved me much, so it didn’t feel much like sex to _me_.”

Cat nodded. That made sense to her. “I guess I don’t feel like we had sex, either,” she replied, “Even though it was... _so_ hot.” Jade smirked at that, making an encouraging sound in her throat. “But I also don’t want to like... _not_ know when our first time is. I want it to be really special. So I can always remember it.”

Jade nodded, “I get that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret anything about how Tori and I did things. But maybe it would be nice to have a really clear memory of what felt like the first time.” She looked ahead of her, at Sam’s wall across the room, expression pensive. “I think that time we first really got naked together is one of those times I’ll never forget. Even though I don’t think either of us _really_ felt like it was our first time...it also kind of was? At least after that point, Tori was sure she wasn’t a virgin anymore.” Jade looked over at Cat thoughtfully, “But also, because of all the exploration we’d already done, there wasn’t the _pressure_ of a ‘first time’ on either of us. We already knew we could make each other come.”

“I guess that’s why I’m not sure what Sam and I did counts,” Cat reflected, “Because I didn’t really _make_ her do anything. But I want to. I really want to know what it all feels like.”

“Just remember it’s not always like the fanfiction we read,” Jade advised, “Like, it’s not all simultaneous orgasms and reading each other’s minds. Sometimes you have to really work together to figure out what’s going to work. Like with Beck, it took awhile for us to figure out what we could do together that would work for me. So some of our first times, I didn’t have an orgasm, and it was okay. That wasn’t really the case with Tori, because, uh, Tori’s _easy_ , but also I had enough experience to know some of what we could do already. But there were still times when only one of us would get off when we were fooling around, and that was okay, too. So you just have to be able to communicate about this stuff.” She paused. “Something I kept saying to Tori is that it’s always different with a new person, so like...if I ever date anyone else...I know it’ll probably be different then, too. Not that I think I ever will. Tori and I...I just really think what we have might be _it_ for me.”

“I think you guys are a great match,” Cat agreed, though she was thinking about how she and Sam had already talked about sex, a little, even before they were dating, when she’d caught Sam masturbating in the living room. Talking about sex was still _hard_ sometimes, and made Cat feel weird, but she thought she and Sam might be...okay at it. With some time and practice. She leaned over and wrapped Jade in a sudden hug. “Thanks, Jade.”

Jade laughed, returning the hug with one arm, “You’re welcome, Cat.” She nodded toward the TV in the bedroom, “Anything good on?”

She and Jade watched TV for a little while, just relaxing and laughing at the old sitcoms Cat chose (though, really, Jade scoffed more than laughed, but Cat knew she was enjoying it). Cat considered trying to stay up late enough to wait for Sam, which felt easier with the sleepover energy she and Jade were enjoying, but just before eleven, she started to feel like she could barely keep her eyes open.

“You’re tired,” Jade observed.

“Yeah,” Cat admitted, “I think I’m gonna go sleep in Sam’s bed so I’ll know when she gets home. You can sleep in my bed if you want, I know the couch isn’t the best.”

“No, that’s okay,” Jade shook her head, “I think I’d better give you two some _privacy_.”

Cat’s mouth flopped open, “Jade! We’re not about to have sex _tonight_!”

“I didn’t say you were! But I don’t know, if I came home to find Tori in my bed, I might wanna make out with her for a while!” She stood up, gazing at her phone, “Besides, it sounds like Tori might actually make it home soon, so I’m gonna want to text with her in private.”

“Ooh, you mean you’re going to _sext_ with her?” Cat teased.

“None of your business,” Jade retorted, though her grin told Cat that she absolutely was.

Cat went out to the living room with Jade to at least get her set up with pillows and blankets so she’d be comfortable. She was a little taller than Carly, and Cat knew Carly had to scrunch her legs a little to fit on the couch, but she also knew Jade slept like a rock, so she thought she’d probably be fine, ultimately.

Cat curled up in Sam’s bed. The pillow smelled like Sam’s hair, and maybe a little bit like chicken, in spite of the fact that she knew Sam had been trying to keep food off of her sheets. She appreciated Sam’s efforts, and really, the smell of chicken itself was as comforting as Sam’s presence as Cat drifted off to sleep in her bed.

-

It was almost midnight when Sam finally made it home. San Diego hadn’t been all that exciting, but it had been lucrative. She had to admit Dice knew what he was doing. He’d set up meetings with a bunch of different individuals and businesses, selling everything from pajelehoochos to Cat’s old blizzard-making machine to some restaurant supplies he’d gotten his hands on. They mostly kept Goomer out of the way, leaving Sam and Dice free to do what they did best: talking people into buying things. It was kind of nice, having that sort of task to focus on. She and Dice were a good sales team, Dice bringing the enthusiasm, the pitches, Sam knowing how to haggle, when to pull back the offer to make the buyer desperate. Spending the day doing something productive and making money actually made her feel a little better.

When they’d emptied Goomer’s car of supplies, they had to go pick up a couple of boxes of speciality travel coffee thermoses that Dice was planning to sell back in LA. Then, they had a late dinner at a diner (Goomer had been tasked with picking up food for them in the middle of their sales pitches, so Sam wasn’t _starving_ ) before finally getting back on the road.

Sam knew it was going to be a long day, but getting home so late wasn’t ideal. Goomer dropped her off near her apartment and she made her way to the back patio, to where Cat had left the door unlocked for her.

Except when she pushed the door, it was locked.

Sam groaned, and peered through the glass, knocking slightly. She figured Jade would be sleeping on the couch, but she couldn’t quite see if she was there. She also had heard that Jade could sleep through almost anything, so maybe Sam’s knocking wasn’t about to wake her up. She could call Cat, she supposed, but she didn’t want to wake her up.

Not when she had a solution at her fingertips. Sam crouched down, tugging out the lock-picking tools she kept in her PearPhone case, and began to work the lock. It wasn’t a very complicated one. _Hmm_. Maybe they should get a deadbolt or something, too.

And just as Sam got the door opened and was stepping in, a masculine voice boomed, “Who the fuck are you?!”

Sam sprang into the kitchen, groping for a frying pan or a kitchen utensil or _anything_ handy as she replied, “Who the _fuck_ is in my house?!”

“Sam?” the voice changed, and Sam saw Jade stepping out of the darkness of the hallway and into the dim light from the sliding glass door to the patio.

“ _Jade_?! What the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I was coming back from the bathroom to find someone _breaking in_ ,” she replied sharply.

“Cat said she left this door unlocked for me! I forgot my keys.”

“Oh,” Jade stepped over to the kitchen island and put down her phone, leaning toward Sam, “Well, I checked all the locks before lying down on the couch because of my anxious brain and I guess I locked you out. I couldn’t understand how Cat could’ve possibly not checked that door.”

“Is everyone okay out there?” came Cat’s voice from down the hall.

“Yeah, babe,” Sam called back, “Jade locked me out and then caught me trying to get back in.”

“Jade, you locked her out?” Cat sounded tired and a little confused.

“I check locks before I go to bed. Sue me,” Jade replied.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Sam said, “I’m gonna have a snack first.”

“Okay,” Cat agreed sleepily, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“What kind of snack are you having?” Jade asked as Sam opened the fridge. She had her phone back in her hands and appeared to be texting.

“That depends on what’s in this pizza box,” Sam replied, pulling it out. She was pretty sure it hadn’t been there when she left, so she asked. “Did you guys order pizza?”

Jade nodded, “Yeah. We ordered two, because Cat wanted to make sure there were leftovers for you.”

The thoughtfulness made Sam grin, and she saw the way Jade eyed the box as she opened it. “You want some?” Sam offered. She was rarely so generous with food, but she knew it had been generously set aside for her, so it only felt right.

“Yeah, I could eat,” Jade agreed.

Sam got out a plate and put a couple of slices of cold pizza on one, passing it over the kitchen island to Jade. She stayed on the kitchen side of the island and began to eat her own cold pizza straight out of the box.

They were quiet as they ate the first couple bites, maybe partly because Jade was still on her phone, but she set it down after a moment and glanced at Sam. “How are you doing?” she asked.

“Okay, I guess,” Sam replied, not sure how much she should go into.

“I heard you’re pretty down about Carly leaving,” Jade probed.

“Yeah,” Sam huffed out a sigh. “I’m starting to feel better. Knowing she made it home safe helped. I know it might sound dumb, but like, she’s my best friend, and she was a part of my daily life for so long. Having her back and getting to be around her every day...just made it really hard to be away from her again.”

Jade was nodding sympathetically. “I get that,” she offered. “I could tell Cat was concerned, so, I thought I’d check in.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped. “I appreciate it,” she started, because she did, “But also, ugh. I don’t want Cat to worry about me. And I don’t want me being sad to make her feel like I love her any less or anything like that. Like. I don’t know how to explain it but I can see how it might feel like I’m hung up on another girl when it’s not like that.”

“I can’t speak for Cat, but I don’t think she’s worried about your feelings for her,” Jade replied. “I think she’s more thinking about how you two _express_ your feelings.” Sam just looked at her blankly, because Jade wasn’t making any sense, and Jade elaborated. “Like last night.”

Sam was surprised, and stood up a little straighter. “You guys talk about that kinda stuff?”

“Well...in theory,” Jade replied, “We haven’t really before but I guess we didn’t have a need to until now, so...we do now.” She was watching Sam carefully, maybe waiting for her reaction.

“Huh,” Sam replied, “I get that, I guess. Carly and I only started talking about stuff like this recently, too, but…” she trailed off, realizing that maybe she could talk to Jade, too. Jade was Cat’s friend, but she was also Sam’s friend, and maybe it would be nice to have someone more local she could confide in. “So...Cat told you about last night?”

“She did,” Jade said evenly, “It sounds like you’re both eager to explore more together.”

Jade wasn’t directly telling her anything, but she said enough for Sam to get the gist of what she and Cat had said to each other, and felt a flutter of excitement and nerves at the idea of it. “Uh huh,” she agreed. “I just know...Cat’s kind of setting the pace for this kinda stuff, so I’ll just wait for her to tell me what she’s comfortable with, because--” But Jade was shaking her head. “What?” Sam asked.

“Just...don’t be like Beck,” she said.

“ _What_?” Sam couldn’t make sense of that. She knew very little about Jade’s relationship with Beck and in getting to know him, he seemed like a pretty cool guy.

“I just mean...Beck almost never had an opinion about anything when we were dating. Until he would decide something for me without even talking to me, I mean. And part of that is just him, there’s just a lot he really doesn’t care about, but part of that was him thinking it was easier to just...not make waves. But it’s hard to date somebody who won’t communicate with you.”

“I didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to talk to Cat,” Sam felt a little defensive at the comparison.

“No, I know,” Jade said, “I’m just trying to say that like...okay, so, with Tori it’s different. When she and I started dating, her parents hired this woman to come talk to her because it was obvious she was gay.”

“Whoa,” Sam’s eyes were wide, “I don’t really know Tori’s parents, but they didn’t sound like the kind of people who would like, have an intervention for a gay kid.”

“No, no, it wasn’t like that,” Jade laughed, “Because they’re _really_ not. It was kind of the opposite of that, actually. They hired a sex educator to make sure Tori had all the information to make good decisions and stuff.”

“Oh. Huh,” Sam replied, “Guess I’m not used to parents actually making good choices.”

“Tell me about it,” Jade chuckled darkly, “But anyway, that means that sometimes Tori just _sounds_ like a sex education pamphlet when she spouts stuff off. Like about communication being the backbone of a relationship.” Jade shrugged, “It sounds corny as hell, but the thing is, pretty much everything Tori has learned from this sex education woman is right. We’ve like, talked about things that I never talked about with Beck and I think it’s really helped us. Even what we were texting about before you got home isn’t something I ever mentioned to Beck.”

Sam thought about how Lanelle had said something similar, about making sure they were on the same page about expectations, and about how Cat would sometimes get flustered and avoid more crude language but almost always seemed receptive to talking about intimacy with Sam. Maybe it was time to really talk about what they were comfortable with, maybe check in. Sam knew that Cat had been enthusiastic about what had happened the night before, but also knew they hadn’t talked about anything like that yet. Maybe they needed to make sure they weren’t getting swept up in things and outpacing Cat’s desires. She also considered why this felt counterintuitive, because with Freddie, talking only led to fighting, but that wasn’t the case with Cat. “Thanks for that,” she replied, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She circled around the island to pick up Jade’s plate for her, knowing the way Cat would prefer it to be rinsed and left in the sink, and as she did so, Jade’s phone lit up on the counter and Sam couldn’t help that her eye was drawn to it. It was a text from Tori reading: _Thanks for getting off with me tonight❤️ Goodnight!_ 😘.

Sam glanced back up at Jade, who had snatched the phone away, though not quickly enough. Sam washed off the dish and when she turned back around remarked, “So, sexting, huh? That’s what communication will get you?”

It was hard to tell in the dim light of the kitchen, but Sam could swear Jade was blushing. “Look, I know Beck knew that I masturbated, but it wasn’t as if I ever let him in on it,” she said defensively, “It’s something Tori and I are trying and it’s...kinda nice on the nights we don’t get to spend together.”

“I get it,” Sam replied, but then the implication hit her. “Wait, were you masturbating _on our couch_?” Maybe it was only weird because that was where Sam masturbated a lot of the time. And now she was being forced to consider whether _Carly_ had masturbated on that couch while she was there and, okay, she needed to stop thinking about everyone who might have gotten off on that couch.

“No!” Jade replied, too quickly and defensively for Sam to believe her. “Okay, you don’t need to know every detail of my sex life.”

“Right,” Sam laughed, “But between Cat and me I hope you’re ready to hear all about mine.”

Jade looked like she regretted the situation she’d put herself in, but sighed. “What are friends for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Never Enough_ by Kelly Clarkson (from _The Greatest Showman: Reimagined_ )
> 
>  **Next time on Sam and Cat’s Super Rockin’ Funtime Love Story (featuring Carly Shay):**
> 
> Sam entered the bedroom, making an effort to be quiet, because Cat would likely already be asleep by now. Except she wasn’t. She was sitting up on her bed, watching what sounded like a cute animal video on her PearPhone.
> 
> “Hey,” said Sam, voice soft. Even though Cat was awake, the room was still dim and it felt like it was supposed to be a quiet time. She wondered if Cat maybe had a bad dream or something. Sometimes she’d watch kittens and puppies on Splashface when she was scared. Or maybe she just couldn’t sleep. “I didn’t keep you up or something, did I?”
> 
> “No,” said Cat, her own voice also quiet but bright. She set the phone down. “I was just waiting for you.”
> 
> “Oh. Everything okay?” Sam knew Cat had worried about her all week with the low mood after Carly had gone home to Italy. (That was weird that Italy was Carly’s _home_.)
> 
> There was a nod from Cat, then she scooted over a bit closer to the wall, making it clear she wanted Sam to join her on the bed. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk.”
> 
> “About?” Sam easily slid into the space Cat had just made for her. Immediately, Cat was snuggled up to her, resting a cheek on Sam’s shoulder.
> 
> “I want to have sex.”
> 
> That was...not quite what Sam had expected. “Uh, right now?”
> 
> Cat giggled. “No! But soon.”
> 
> “In like ten minutes?”
> 
> “Sam!”
> 
> “I’m just trying to get an idea about your timeline!”
> 
> “On Valentine’s Day.”
> 
> That was a nice idea. Though, as Sam thought about it, it wasn’t her definition of “soon.” “That’s like six weeks away?”
> 
> “I know. But I want it to be something we both remember. And I’m Cat Valentine, so--”
> 
> “So it’d be on your own day,” Sam finished. There was a certain Cat-logic to it that made a lot of sense.
> 
> “Yeah!”
> 
> “What are we gonna do on my day?”
> 
> “I don’t think there is a Puckle’s Day.”
> 
> “ _Cat_!”


End file.
